It was about 90 degrees in the South of France. Coming from San Francisco, where it's sweater weather all year round, I was definitely out of my element. On this particular day, I went on a walk on my own. It was at the peak of the day, and the sun felt like it was unnecessarily hovering overhead. The place I was staying at was just beyond those houses in the background, and to reach it, one would have to walk around this large area of grass. It was funny to me that this old Mercedes was parked out there in the middle of the grass. It looked so sad there, out in the middle of nowhere. But who knows, maybe I was projecting.
Pierrevert, which is in the South of France, was an incredible place, but it was also above 90 degrees every day. Coming from San Francisco weather, it was rough. Regardless, I spent most days walking about 6 miles, checking out exhibitions, meeting other artists, and when I got the time, photographing on my own. The town of Pierrevert was very old, parts of it were built even as early as 1500-1700. The sweet couple hosting me shared the history of the town, explaining how the hills and mountains surrounding them protected the people from attacks. And while a lot has been built since the towns origin, it still has that isolated feeling.
I loved seeing the overgrown weeds everywhere. Living in a big city, like San Francisco, nature is manufactured to fit between concrete slabs. A Tree here, bush there, and when the roots wreck the concrete, they just cut the tree down. And while I'm not really the nature-type, it's difficult not to appreciate a landscape so lush and seductive. The wind blowing through it's snail infested mane, and the sort of quiet and reflective air that gets into your lungs.