Voyages des Revés: The House of the Muse

The House of the MuseWhen we were in France, we journeyed in inquiry. Each day began with a question to muse upon. Here is one for you muse upon: As beauty arises, what wants to be released?

When we reached Chavenay, this adorable french village in the countryside, we all relaxed. Paris is so full of things to see and sketch that sometimes I feel like I have no time to breathe. Chavenay offered a gorgeous green lawn to paint on, sunlight dappling through the leaves of an old tree, a golden gentleman of a retriever, and roses. One can always breathe when there are roses in a garden.

It was here we setup easels, unwrapped our brushes, and began painting. The second painting we did was a Black Madonna. Or, that is how she began.

What she turned into is my Muse which may be one and same when you think about it. A black madonna is an image of the Divine Feminine and one can argue so is my Muse. Though my Muse may have an opinion about that. She gets a bit picky about things that sound too serious. Irreverence is one of her middle names.

She Who Lives in the House of the Muse is forever held in the Heart of Love.

Painting in ChavenayThese are the words collaged onto the painting. Shiloh led us on a visionary journey where I saw the House of the Muse. It has sand floors and the ocean waves gently wash in and out. The house is filled with treasures and altars and rooms. The house lives at the still point in my heart. It is entirely grounded, yet can move anywhere I need it to move.

What house lives in your heart?

We spent a whole day painting with our bare toes in the grass, paint shirts and aprons on, and brushes in hand. It was glorious!  After a wondrous lunch feast, Eileen and I wandered down through the village and the blooming red poppies to the park with its beautiful pond with willow trees and rushes growing. We sat and sketched and enjoyed the quiet of a lazy afternoon.

La Sucrerie

That night we feasted on a meal made by our personal chef, Jonathan! Made to perfection with local ingredients, each dish was like a painting created with intention and inquiry. Much laughter and sharing made this day a gift in joy and wonder.

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ArticlesAnnette Wagner