where there is a classical lake

june 30th, 2010


Well dear Reader,

this was a day of surprise for the favorite Reporter.

At 1:53 pm, there was 4.3 earthquake, 12 kilometers from where she was. Considering that with her friends, she travelled about 11,000 miles in the hope to live a few weeks of quiet summer away from geologically challenged L.A., you will confess that for once that there is an earthquake in france, generally limited to the mediterranean coast, you will confess that it is " un peu fort de cafe " meaning roughly, " a little strong of coffee " [ one of these flowery colloquialism that the french affectionate ] to find yourself near the epicenter of something that is NOT supposed to happen in france.


And to testify to this, here is the geological seismic map of this important event,
if you click on the photo of the map, under the red dot IS the favorite Reporter.










Apart from that, the day was pretty uneventful and delightful as we can see in this view of the nearby little lake:









or of this other charming classical view,









and then there was something to touch the heart of the Reporter's son :









and then two more to touch the Reporter's daughter, here is Colyn,









and here is Zozo,










Now Zozo doesn't have an easy temper, but Colyn under his languorous eyes, is a con man. I am just saying.

Now that all this is well organized, the favorite Reporter can send her love
from the seismically challenged alpine retreat,

the Frog

paint and train

june 29th, 2010


Well, dear Readers,

one has to say, that days follow each other and are alike. There is nothing to report, except the following.

The Reporter is still painting these awesome, delicate views in her dreadfully rough manner, you may click on the pic for better view, such Watteau's views as,







Even though we do not notice the noise of the train, they pass right under our convent as you see in this pic,
and this is a special tribute to the son of the Reporter, who at age 6 declared he would be a train driver,








Position eminently worthy which he abandoned for the less lucrative and interesting post of director of photography, in films,
here again another tribute to the dear son, the north side of the rail track,








another tribute as the south side of the track,












And here the lovely convent










with intensely moving thoughts,
the Frog

lots of paint

june 28th, 2010


To be truthful again, there is not a lot to report, except more paint. That is the way things are with addictive people.
We are now at the 6th painting and it is good that an excursion is planned for July 1st to Lyon as the Reporter has now used the six pieces of canvas she thought she would be amply supplied with.

So the last piece of canvas was started this way, and no it is not a snow landscape,








also the Reporter ventured at last to the south side of the retreat and found this,










you can bathe in it. The water comes straight down from the steep side of the mountain where the house is holding itself. So it streams down from the melted snow. It's really warm water. You get into it and come out in less than 3/10 of a second but it's awesome afterwards.


Also for people who want to explore, and of course the obnoxious Reporter loves to be one of these, you can see these,







by doing that :








but the Reporter is really dumb and for the moment she is only in pain and in paint.


So with love and blue-green sticky fingers,
the Frog

very little

june 27th, 2010


To be truthful, dear Readers, the Reporter has nothing to report.

There are days like that where life is so uneventful that you could cry.

Forget that the oil is pouring like blood in the Gulf of Mexico, or that banks evict people from their home. LIfe in the Alps is just slow.

There is one excellent piece of news though, in Lakemoor, Ill., Police said a 30-year-old woman apparently fell out of a third-story window, landed on her parked car, and then walked into a neighbor's house, where she fell asleep on a couch for two hours.

That gives us the perspective that life is after all " un long fleuve tranquille " or " a long quiet river " and that is good.



As a perspective, here is one new oil, even if it looks like a precedent one, that one is really new










And this one is the finished one,










And the conclusion is of course that if you fall from the third floor, always fall on your own car.


With love from the alpine elevated ground floor,
the Frog

where there is more paint

june 26th, 2010


For Readers not really interested in paint, let's say immediately that this blog, today and in the next days is going to become
particularly boring, so they may be advised not to hang around too much.


Tall, my darling daughter, is always intrigued by the passion with which the Reporter can discuss medium, colors and hues, canvas quality, i.e. primed, not primed, several coats of gesso, oil primed fine texture, oil primed medium texture, oil primed rough texture. Acrylic primed, stretched, unstretched, refined linseed oil, stand linseed, drying linseed oil, genuine distilled turpentine, english distilled turp.

I mean the options are endless, and all worth thinking about, and so captivating and engrossing. It's like music to one's ear and rocks you to the loveliest sleep and dreams, and how can a sensitive and brilliant girl like the Reporter's daughter be intrigued and not be seized by such an exalted subject.

Which just shows the limitations of education given to the young generation.


But we digress.

So here are the fascinating oily works of the day,

here the top summits were painted blue,








here the mountain from yesterday was finished, note the appearance of the bellowing cloud,









and last but not least, a new one in its exquisite first stage,








Now wasn't that absolutely phenomenal.
Tall Daughter will be so impressed and excited.


With love,
from the exquisite Alpine stage and from the dedicated Reporter,
the Frog

where there is a lot of sun

June 25th, 2010


Well, dear Reader, there is a lot to be said for straw hats. The Reporter who always pack a little too lightly, regretfully pushed none of those straws into her little travel bag.

She was anyway so proud to have lodged inside her Longchamps bag both the portable easel and the sitting stool, and in fact also the square plastic box with brushes and diagonally adjusted the long brushes that, exhilarated by this tour de force, [ * in french in the text, meaning : tour de force ] that she totally forgot the straw and after all, this was the last straw.

Included in the bag were her two summer dresses, pjs, one black linen short and toiletries. So if anyone can beat that as holiday summer garb for 8 weeks stay in chic france, you can post a comment below. She was dressed for the plane in her one pair of chino that she would use for painting, and mounain hiking boots as she would climb up to the St Germain church where she would lose her i phone. This, in fact is a tribute to her Tall daughter who sometimes packs less, and is not allowed to post a comment.

But we digress.

So to the demand of faithful readers, here is an aspect of the shoes, that she packed also in the Longchamps, they are in fact palepink but in the dawn light, they are bluish,








Then here is a photo of the hills accross and the two round hills are called foret du Pelain, you may click on the pic, for better view,








And here is the painting, as you see it looks so much like it,









Then in the Grand Para, [ from the mountains of the Bauges ] here is la Dent d'Arclusaz, [ The Tooth of Arclusaz ]









And here is the painting and it looks so much like it, though this is only like the first state of the masterpiece, of course.
So it could get worse. Let's hope.










And to close this on a very moving mood, this is a tribute to the son of the Reporter, Dylan who in his early tender years, dreamt of being a train controller, and he, the same, is not allowed to post a comment,








With all moving thoughts from this Alpine region,
and much love,

the Frog

where there is paint

june 24th, 2010


So somewhere in the mountain, some people decided to go paint. And they were gracious enough to accept the Reporter as a fellow.

The view was somewhat awesome







and so was the place, a former convent and the group felt awed and lucky to be able to spend
some time there, and paint.






and then former nun cells are bedrooms,






All in all, here is one of the view of mountains,









and our most delightful organizer, the wonderful Italian Lady without whom none of this would be possible, and with the help of her lovely American twin !










In other good news, the IWC, the International Whaling Commission, has decided to delay action on a deal that would have legalized commercial whaling for the first time in a generation !! So the Reporter tonight will drink her glass of wine to the health of our beloved whales !!!!
With much love,
from all the painting fellows and the kind mountains,
the Frog

where there is an end to the lake view

june 23rd, 2010


The Reporter woke up to a glorious day, and early in the morning, such was the view from her room, which one has to say could be worse. That was at 7 am.








Then this is what it looked like two hours later from the hotel terrace,






Then this is what it looked like from way above, that is when you are going to the " Ermitage de St Germain " or the " Hermitage of St. Germain " roughly translated.








Then the Reporter who is tremendously courageous managed to get to the tiny church of St Germain, and from there, this is what it looked like, and if the Reader is brilliant enough, he will recognize the private beach of the hotel which is approximately in the center of the photo, and you may have to click on the photo to see it better






and then against the wall outside the door of the tiny church there was this engraved stone, and it roughly says, that St Francois de Salles presided over the transfer of the relics of St Germain, and that St Francois wants to retire there, to serve God with his prayer and quill and that he hopes his thoughts will come as tiny and as dense [ as in depth ] as the snow which falls [ a lot in those parts ] during winter.
I have a feeling St. Francois wanted to come for the view too. And all this happened in 1624, which is really like yesterday, when you look at things from far away.






The inside of the church is all pink and blue, which is pretty much what the Reporter likes as colors on walls, so she was fairly happy, considering she is not that religious, apart from some buddhist principles, having this very bellicose temper.









High on the wall of the little church were coats of arms like these











and then Reporter's hand was shaking as she shot her last pic inside the church, there was a coat of arms with the name of
Sauvage, and Sauvage is the last name of one her best girl friend in Paris !! So she sent that to her friend. By the way, "Sauvage" in french means " Savage" in english, which shows that the Reporter knows how to choose her friends.
Here is the coat of arms shot by her shaky hand,






And then it was time to go towards new adventures, and the Reporter regretfully said good-bye to her beloved Talloires,
with one last look at that little lake,






WIth love from the Alps,
the Frog

sunny day at last

june 22nd, 2010


Well dear Reader,

you will be happy to know that both the sun made its entrance on Talloires, and the Reporter got herself a small camera to replace her beloved i phone who decamped the day before.

So now, armed with new tools, the Reporter is able to report again.
You may want to click on the photos to see better.
First it was a pretty lovely day as shows the view from her room.








We check the garden from the balcony..

Then we went to visit high above Talloires, Fanchette, the sister of my best friend Marie-Paule. She lives in a hamlet in a "chalet" or log cabin, but a really nice one... and her husband chops a lot of wood for the snowy winter, as the two next pics show:


















We checked the garden from the balcony










And Marie Paule brought some books,









We checked the view, with the small lake on the left and the big lake on the right,








Then we went for a hike and had another view,








Then we came back and on the way back we had a view of the big lake, but the big lake is kind of ugly of course,









Then we went back down to Talloires and I checked some of the houses where I used to have friends when I was a child,
this was la Maison Caron










and that one was l'Eparvi,









My brother had really nice friends in that one, when it was raining, we would play monopoly for hours there:














That house was next to that little alley,











And if you took it, it would lead you this way








to this little beach








to have this view of the lake







and of this little private harbour of the house next to it









another little alley









and taking one alley, we get to the hotel and the tennis, which is usually occupied till sunset, but then we are a little early in the season....







Back in the village, we see at last La Tournette, the really good mountain that we would climb once every summer. We would walk up the day before to the Chalet du Casset, where we would sleep on wood plank on meager blanket, Tibetan comfort like, and then wake up at 4:30 am to climb the rest and see the sunrise on top of La Tournette. As you perhaps see, there are still traces of snow up there,








Here are the Reporter's boot and as you see, one is always ready for la Tournette. Check the elegant pale blue sock.









and then walking back to the hotel, the lake gets darker at twilight, it smells of linden trees and honeysuckle,









And then behind the hotel is the Dents de Lanfon,











and again from the Reporter's room, the lake is falling asleep,











Time to say good night from the kindest lake,

with love,
the frog