The inner places of the mind and the way we see ourselves may be unknown to those around us–sometimes even to ourselves. There may just be a faint itch of something buried deep within, perhaps a part of the DNA that picks away until with time it rears itself into reality. Part of how I see myself is a fascination with France, somewhat of a mystery in spite of my mother’s French maiden name. About 20 years ago it was a book on Provence staring at me from the self help section of a California book
J'y Suis Under the Roman Arches of Avignon, 9 1/2" X 7 1/2" (framed size), Mixed Media on Paper, $125
store that first alerted me to this unknown part of self. Avignon–what was this town that looked so fascinating? I wanted to visit it. A trip to Bilbao and points beyond was just a week away. Why not go to Provence? Bilbao became the jumping off point for a series of events leading to Avignon that could not have been imagined or orchestrated if I had tried. The magic had begun with this as only the first of several trips to Avignon. Its lure and mystery still remain.
