Under the golden skies.
Monday garden- Part 6.
Thank you, Alain Choukroun, for the map.
You might find this piece slightly different from the previous ones, not in the subject matter, but the form of writing. I feel my writing evolve with the regular practice and this process feels wondrous to me. I wonder what kind of evolution are you noticing in your craft (be it writing, drawing, gardening…) if you’re practicing it regularly. For me, it’s getting easier to say “I think” or “I see” for example, rather than hide behind the “it seems that” or “one could think that…”.
You’ll find a detailed description of what is a haiku (three of mine are included in the piece) in this article by
:I’m only a stumbling beginner of course. I might write in more detail later what it is that attracts me so much in this poetic form.
And now, back to the usual programming -well, not quite.
Antwerp. Grande Place.
Today’s newsletter is somewhat exceptional as even though I stay on the theme of unusual parks we will leave Paris for a little while. Just two hours away by train, a small town of Antwerp offers, alongside wonderful museums and lovely old buildings, a particularly colourful celebration of fall. I hope you’ll come and sit with for a while under the softly golden clouds of its vast sky.
Alders and brick
Big expanse of golden sky
The city wakes up.
It’s not easy to get a feeling of the town in just a couple of days. What stays with me are white and slate grey buildings, sudden bursts of orange and burgundy vine and golden drops of acacia leaves, a large expanse of water- the port- that one can’t see but that is present, defining the town and its life. The streets are mostly wide and calm, big windows on the passerby’s eye level so that one can see people preparing their evening meal or simply being. There is a fluidity between the inside and the outside: a sort of fluid calm. A small town, perched near the sea, living with the ebb and flow of the water and particularly the sky.
Black jackdaws- wood frame
High pitched chirps-
Vine turning red.
A page from my notebook where I write haiku (here the first one is in Russian and I’ve translated it into English, slightly changing the words). The koi sketch is done in ink.
Of course I went looking for a garden. This is what I’m interested in- the Nature occupying its place in the city and modifying the rhythm of the urban life. The Botanic garden of Antwerp- de Botaniek- is a landscaped botanical garden dating back to 1825.
De Botaniek, Antwerp.
In the centre of the garden there is a small a pond with an artificial brook that creates a softly rolling background noise. Under the veil of the dark water the red, orange and white spots of Japanese “koi” (carps) move, like pieces of an animated mosaic. One of the carps was a particularly large one, its long whiskers giving it the appearance of an old wise man. It moved its grey-green body with slow determination, followed by the brighter, younger fish.
Old carp in the pond
It takes its time, slowly swims
The graphic reflection of fall grasses.
Another koi drawing inspired by the fish in De Botaniek pond.
Many of the grasses and ornamental plants have dried up and their stalks had a particular graphic beauty to them. Later on, when I’ve picked up my brush pen I wanted to draw some of the shapes from memory and, imperfect as they are, I’ve enjoyed trying to reproduce their decorative element. Autumn, of course, brings with it a gorgeous feast of colours but also the graphic structural beauty ( branches, stalks…) that is hidden under foliage in the summer.
Flower arrangements in the MAS’ (Antwerp City Museum) foyer.
I’ve noticed striking bouquets of dried grasses in many of the stores and museum foyers in Antwerp. Often spray painted and mixed with artificial flowers these compositions were sculptural and presented the beauty of fall in a different way.
Sometimes we’re tempted to “skip” fall (with maybe a brief stop at Halloween to carve a pumpkin) so that we can get to Christmas and New Year faster. But it seems important to me to live this season out completely, to experience fully this letting go and turning of the page. The bright jewel like fall foliage bouquets were a statement to this celebration of fall.
I hope that you’ve enjoyed this small excursion outside of the French capital. We will continue exploring its unusual gardens next week.