Below is the house rebuilt after the original was bombed in World War I. It is the land of Rimbaud’s mother. Where he wrote the main body of A Season in Hell. Where he often returned to recuperate after hard travel. Where he spent his last autumn as an amputee and truly suffered. I can’t add the little land video, I will do it for the next post. This is just a starting point. Next will be family background and a glimpse of the poet child.
HI Patti,
Very interesting in all respects, thank you as always for taking the time & share these things with us, very much appreciated.
Couldn't think of a better Stewart of the land/plot & his home than you Patti, that's correct!
Its funny cause as I was looking at the pictures prior to watching the video & I thought, this would be a great place to potentially purchase, same attitude, do not change it or Build on it. Simply live there, take care of the structure (that's never going to end) & the land and hopefully enjoy the peace and quiet.
I would start by respectfully mowing the lawn if I couldn't borrow the goats to do it organically ;o)
Peace!
Thanks for posting even when you’re on tour! Thanks for telling us a bit of the background story - I love that there lived someone in the house before who was keen to keep it as it is and found you :-) :-)
Hope you enjoyed Copenhagen and Malmö - I know both places quite well but haven’t been there for a long time.
I like the color of the shutters, & the stonework. How amazing the house still stands like a proud old man with head & heart full of history.
A perfect intro to Rimbaud for someone like me who is new to him.
I found a Modern Library edition of Rimbaud Complete at my neighborhood used book store! I was so excited.
Love your Happy Shepherd photo! 🕊💙📚🎶
ah !
coffee & quiet
a good combo for
Rimbaud ramble
Too often, I hear about, what I would call sacred spaces, demolished and developed over. It’s heartbreaking. I’m delighted to know that you are keeping Arthur’s “sacred space” from becoming just another place. Wonderful. The pictures are awesome, too.
Thank you for this introduction to Rimaud and for taking care of the land. What a gift to be able to listen to you x
I loved to know how you came to buy Rimbaud’s land!
Patti you are a life teacher
And so amazing
Lovely, lovely. Im reading Rimbaud for the first time & your ‘tour’ & stories & his words as I read, bring it all to life as if he lived in the present moment. Thank you.
Rimbaud was remains my most treasured French poets. I can still Recite the first page of “Une Saison en Enfer” by heart.
Waiting for the pharmacy to open to get my shingles vaccine. It's been 6 months of this infection, off and on again, leaving after days of wrapping it in mud & herbs & oil. It leaves but my arm holds it's memory like the body holds the memory of trauma again and again, faded then alive, itching mad, searing pain that begins to not feel like pain because it's always there below the surface or above, bubbling oil sheened tight heads, whispering plotting against the cells that reject it. Calm down immune system guard- stand down. It's only self, not the enemy. I blow on my wrist that i just took from it's itchy mud wrap, blowing on the clock to pass along the minutes before my skin erupts again. There is an end to this moment. Everything is temporary including this body, this disease, this country, this stress, my child's drug abuse. This life outside these walls, cross the river, swim south. No barcodes on my arm before i leave, holding me back, keeping me in disease. New paths new doors; big ones, little ones, pink ones, green. It will all unravel and knot again. The trees know how to survive, how to thrive outside these walls. Walls will fall eventually but i can't wait for the dust to settle. I will stir my own dust, break my own walls, leave this slow boiled horror show. It's not set, drawn, and quartered- I'm alive and free and i will not be contained, constantly bandaging my skin, waiting for fleeting relief to salve my mind til the next bout of post-colonial breath of air before the next wave of attack rushes over my body again. Soul ratification claws from under my skin, tearing joy in a constant vigilant mantra... Don't scratch- It's all in your head- it's not real.... It is real goddammit! It's so real and so painful. This pain this body this disease this state of Kansas who wants to erase all of us trans and gender non-conformers from existence. This culture is killing me. It screams murder isolation fear pain in a cristian national suit of death. Oh no, it won't get me - i'm strong, i won't scratch. It doesn't itch, doesn't bother me, survivor rah rah rah kill you stronger makes you, makes me. Open pharmacy- i can't take it anymore must itch must scratch itch must leave country; plant veggies do art write read learn love dance with doggie but it's still there Not in my head. It is all around me; toxic sick murderous culture. boiling. hot. jump frog jump.
Bathing in Copenhagen sounds amazing- even just the sentence shows you are coming from such a different. refreshing reference point from my own. I can imagine the farmhouse even without photos. I can see it and go there in my head- i could ride my bike the 20 or 30 miles to town when i was a teenager. Maybe Rimbaud's mother did that, thought of escape instead of taking care of siblings and serving her authoritarian father. She married to get away from that life to Rimbaud's father. Who wouldn't? I can imagine being her, running away. What a reconciliation she must have had after inheriting the farm and having Arthur come home to recover and write. Amazing ritual to reuse the tragic events to create a new house of the rubble- Will we use the rubble of the past 531 years of colonial mind fuckery to create a new world? Don't buy the land, just squat with the goats. They won't ask you to leave if you are foraging alongside them, planting a garden to feed them from. They really like kale but supposedly it's not good for goats, a little won't hurt though. Grow berrries and bamboo; build a small hut out of it where you can bring your typewriter and create your next book. There is an open ended possibility of living there, weaving it through your long hair, becoming a pheasant to forage and graze.
What an education on Rimbaud and Joan of Arc. It is a relaxing stream through the bamboo to hear your vivid descriptions and generous words to bring us into your world. I breathe it deep to escape my own current existence. I could listen to you all day but the pharmacy is open now. I want to tell the 16 year old midwest bag girl at the store who asks me who Patti Smith is after reading my shirt so many things... I want to tell her that she yells to ignite the fire in peoples hearts that she nourishes young despairing ears when she sends out a video telling them not to give up, to hold on, that it will get better. How she is an icon ,a force of strength and rebellion and smashing walls of hatred. How she passes her voice and power and truth to all of us who hear her and dance joyfully to her outcries- "If i can't dance, i don't want to be a part of your revolution" ~Emma Goldman... I want to show the bag girl and the 69 year old checker pictures of Patti's words written on the walls of the Casa Azul, Frida's house in Coyocan, tell them to go there and open their eyes to art to culture to life. I would tell the young thing to get out of the country to break free. But alas, i can only tell myself that; the young one wants a quick reply as she hands me my bag of discounted produce, forcing me to say the dreaded response, ending in my telling her to "look her up".
Thank you Patti for this beautiful introduction to Rimbaud. I’ve had a hard time getting into poetry in the past but I already feel engrossed in this subject. It’s the way you tell it. I loved hearing about the land, seeing that photo of you as the happy shepherdess. Ooh, that blouse too, the colour is gorgeous. I hope you had a wonderful concert in Copenhagen.
I just love your little messages 💕
Thank you Patti ❤️
Really enjoyed your introduction, Patti. It’s extra special to get to know him through you. It’s so lovely that you became the steward of his house and land. I hope the goats greet you next time you are there.
Thank you for your lessons - - I just love you 🥹
So cool that you have been entrusted with this house Patti! What an honor that is!🥰
Thank you, Patti. I hope you have good concerts on your travels. It is wonderful how you are now the shepherd of Rimbaud's land. Thank you for the photos too.
Always privilege to “visit” with you, Patti, and now to share in the experience of Rimbaud. Isn’t it interesting how suffering can combust into rich brilliance! Thank you.
Patti, thank you for the book recommendation Mrabet's M'Hashish. It took me back to being a teenager in the 70's. I appreciate the reminder of th enjoyment of drinking tea, smoking kir and talking for hours.
Thank you so much, dear Patti, for a great grounding start to our month of celebrating the life and work of Arthur Rimbaud. And thank you as well for pointing me to the Louise Varèse translation of Une Saison en Enfer. I have an earlier French-English facing-page translation that I am not satisfied with: this one looks much better already.
Here's a link, for those of you who haven't gotten the book yet:
https://www.amazon.com/Season-Hell-Drunken-Boat-Second-ebook/dp/B008NIW3XI/
As a longstanding student of ancient texts and modern exegeses about the alchemical transformation of the soul, I'm delighted that you draw attention to Rimbaud's relation to that lofty goal in your preface. I love what you say about how "The alchemist must descend within himself, a journey more terrifying than trudging the White Pass or scaling the immense, tragic cliffs of Bhutan. Only by navigating the chaos of his being can he initiate the process of mapping out this small unholy guide." And then a burst of beautiful prose poetry in which you describe Rimbaud's "superb and nasty shedding of skins" and so on toward his "rubrics strewn in hard places" before arriving "with his infernal stump, at heaven's gate unbowed."
As for Copenhagen, I also love the tales of Hans Christian Andersen. I got to go to Copenhagen and see the statue of the Little Mermaid when I was a child of nine. Fond memories! I hope your concert there was great fun for you and that things go well in Malmö as well.
Thanks for the link Fiona. I’ve just found it online here in England, secondhand, it’s now winging its way to me!
Thank's for telling us some more details about the history of the house. Nice to see the reflection of your room in the curtain button. Seems to me you're left eye is bothering you from time to time. Take care of it.
I have had a severe cast eye since childhood. Thank you from r your concern.
You're welcome. Thank you for the explanation. Enjoy your concerts in Scandinavia and see you in Brussels in October.!
Patti, I learned that you purchased the house in Roche that is associated with Rimbaud. Great, I am very happy with it.
O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws?
How encouraging for me. I now see Rimbaud's life as a battle against the trauma of his wanderings in a turbulent French society.
Have a great concert Patti; I'm looking forward to walking through Arthur's life with you day by day, sending you love 💜
This was really wonderful! I too resonate with land. Thank you so much for sharing with us and conjuring up Rimbaud in such a personal and real way.
Thank you so much for grounding us to that place and time and it is so wonderful that you get to steward it. I live on a piece of land that adopted me and I know how special the relationship is.
It's a lovely house Patti - glad you are looking after it. Enjoy your concert tonight and thanks for taking the time to start on Rimbaud.
Love this post and photos. Thanks so much for sharing it.
This is fascinating, Patti . . . such a rich history. And the photos lend so much to the story. Love the picture of the happy Shepherd. It really is perfect. And I know you said it was miraculous that you came to tend the land, but I truly feel it's much more than that. It's wonderfully fitting, something so right in the universe that the family reached out to you, knowing that you would love and care for the land, treasure its past and the energy it holds. As always, many thanks.
Thanks, Patti! I love hearing about the house and the property as part of Rimbaud's life. I hope you get a photo of the goats and maybe even the donkey if they are around when you visit.
I don’t know where or how to begin in expressing my response to this. I watched and listened in bed after a hard day, health wise. Dickinson said “There is no Frigate like a Book / To take us Lands away” and I agree, but would add that you, Patti, are as good a Frigate as any human being could be.
The light is extraordinary. Is it like that there all day? It makes its way into the paintings of the place. I never imagined.
I agree with everyone who remarked how lovely you look, Patti. The light suits you, as does the room. I wish that everyone who ever loved you could see and hear you discussing Rimbaud’s family, the history, the house and the land. I’m remembering the scene from “Dream of Life” of your father and you in the backyard, your father talking about a tree he planted (I hope I haven’t imagined that; like you, I have moving pictures of people I never knew but something about such pictures are anyway true). You do look beautiful, and the halo of your hair is like a glowing thinking cap.
The story of how you got the land is amazing. To my bones, I understand your connection to and love for the land where Rimbaud was and wrote and suffered. I have Wallace Stevens’s bed and I cherish it. The impulse is similar — but to have the land is just unbelievable. I hope and trust that much will come of it as a result of your stewardship. How fortuitous that the elderly woman found you.
I’m not feeling strong enough to write more now (and you’ve no doubt heard enough from me) but I so love this and thank you for this whole experience. That you delivered this encomium Smithposium on the day you have a concert is amazing, a testament to the depth of your love for Rimbaud, your commitment to your work, your indefatigable energy, and the aliveness of your mind. What a joy to be privy to it.
Thanks to everyone for your wonderful comments. It’s a privilege to be in such company.
I trust that your concert was great, Patti. Thank you for this and for everything. You — and this group — have been rescuing.
Looking forward to more.
Warmly, as ever, and signing off with Dickinson, #1286,
Robin
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry –
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll –
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human Soul –
Thank you for the Emily poem, Robin. The word "frigate" is so beautiful, and it always reminds me of the frigate bird (which I have only seen images of), with its enormously puffed-out red throat and chest.
Bruce—
Growing up and sailing a lot on the Gulf Coast of Texas, I got to see magnificent frigatebirds (Fregata magnificens) quite often. Usually far overhead, that distinctive shape with elegant wings and forked tail. But every once in a while I got to see a male with the dramatic inflated bright-red pouch made of throat skin.
One time when a tropical storm (which later became a hurricane) was blowing strong offshore winds, I was standing on the balcony of my parents' waterside condo (Rockport, Texas, north of Corpus Christi) when three (!) magnificent frigatebirds, with smallish red throat pouches, were lined up only 8-10 feet away, facing me and beating their wings against the wind. Going nowhere, just staying in place. We figured it was their way of sheltering from the storm, hovering down near the ground like that. Truly a remarkable sight!
Fiona, thank you for this-- your experiences seeing these birds so close must have been amazing, as your spending time in your youth sailing on the Gulf Coast surely must have been too. I am a failed surfer -- I never could stand up -- but I have always loved the ocean: swimming in it, walking along it, looking for gifts washed up on the shore. I am now landlocked, though -- first by chance but now by choice.
I'm a failed surfer too, Bruce. But I could handle myself in heavy surf just fine—spent many days, long hours a day, swimming in big breakers off Texas beaches. I'm not quite landlocked these days, but I'm disabled by knee injuries. I may get back to sailing some day, but I have no hope of ever being able to keep upright in the swirling sand and vortices of strong currents in the waves.
It's OK, though. I'm good at surfing on my memories. =smile=
I'm sorry to hear that you can't wrestle with the waves now, and hope that will be sailing again soon. I'm actually more nervous on a boat than in the water, and I'm suddenly reminded of the disconcerting opening lines of Laura Jensen's poem "Bad Boats", from her book of the same title (this is from memory, so I may have forgotten the line breaks and punctuation):
They are like women
because they sway.
The are like men
because they swagger.
They are the bad boats
and they hate their anchors...
All best to you, and enjoy Rimbaud Month!
Bruce
A frigate-bird! I hadn’t thought of it! I wonder if Dickinson knew of them. She knew so much about so many things. I believe one has to go to the Galápagos to see them. To your knowledge, Bruce, is that so?
Sorry for the slow reply, Robin. Day-job duties, which were suddenly cancelled because there are overflowing rivers here in central Japan. As for the frigate bird, I don't know, and have to find out!
I’m sorry about the overflowing rivers, and hope that no one has been injured and that the weekend is not too bad. Sending wishes for safety.
Warmly,
Robin
I think most people evacuated safely. We have good warning systems on our cellphones for flooding, earthquakes, typhoons, volcanoes....
As for the frigate bird, the Wiki had good (and not too much) information: four species, apparently found on open oceans all over the tropical and subtropical Pacific and western Atlantic. And they are "Able to soar for weeks on wind currents" !!
Falling asleep to the sound of rain here, and wishing you fearlessness, happiness, health.
Bruce
PS: Your long comments rock!
“Able to soar for weeks on wind currents" is the best string of words I’ve read all day! What a capacity! Thank you for sharing it with me, Bruce, and for invoking the frigate bird. How happy I imagine Emily Dickinson would be to know of this conversation. And how thrilled that she was invoked in the context of Rimbaud!
I’m glad you have good warning systems on your cellphones and hope that everyone is safe.
Warmest wishes to you,
Robin
I hope tomorrow is a better day for you, Robin. I don't think any of us has 'heard enough' from you. Thanks for the Dickinson. I'm always moved by her writing. And it's a privilege to be in your company as well.
Jim
Thank you so much, Jim. I really appreciate your kindness.
To tomorrow, another day --
Thank you for the background story and the beautiful photos of Roche. I can truly see him sitting in the grass there or taking a walk in moonlight: “I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable. I found the still point of the turning Earth.” You look radiant in the Copenhagen light. Safe travels!
A great beginning! Thank you for the land and shepherd story! The photos are wonderful too.
Loving this wayward Tour de Rimbaud already. Thank you!
You look recharged and full of life. Kept waiting for Carlo to show up. Lol Copenhagen light on you is so beautiful. Could listen and watch for hours. Love this history of the land and house. More more more please 🥰
This was a lovely beginning, Patti. Thank you. I am looking forward to the next post. Hearing about a writer's/poet's life often brings a deeper connection to their work. I am so glad to have your guidance as I read Mr. Rimbaud's writings, which are all new to me.
Thanks, Patti. The journey begins!
not you "of all people" but you and only you. i imagine...Arthur the poet, the dreamer in another realm, orchestrating it all, connecting the former shepherd to another poet another dreamer. a very worthy, happy and good shepherd x
One of my dearest possessions is a statue of the little mermaid. It was bequeathed to me by my best friends Mormor (danish grandma)
As for Rimbaud, to be surrounded by his sacred space, to touch the earth and the trees, the stones that once witnessed his being there, must surely be a bequeathed blessing for you alone. I’m sure he is very pleased with you.
How lovely to hear all of that and to know that you’re the steward of a place so precious to you!
Best wishes for tonight’s concert.
So happy to be starting out on this Rimbaud journey . I love that you are the shepherd of this land ….no one better to be a caretaker ! The pictures are beautiful!
You are probably on stage as I write this ! Hope you have a wonderful night and can feel the love and the energy of the crowd all around you!
Looking forward to continuing alongside Rimbaud for a few more weeks ! Thank you Patti !
Thank you for this fascinating historical insight. I love the other-worldly acid green moss and goat pasture.
I love it too — otherworldly, yes.
Thanks for bringing us along!
O Patti You led us in the chant that transcends Time and Space: "Go Rimbaud! Go Rimbaud! Go Rimbaud GO!" I remember the waves of energy through our crowd leading us back and forth honoring Rimbaud. Have a safe and exciting journey in the heart of Rimbaud. I send my love from California to your destination...
Loving this Rimbaud journey, Patti -- gorgeous pictures! Have fun at tonight's concert - they're so blessed to have you guys pay them a visit....xoxo
I love that picture of you in the window Patti 💜🐎
The house is beautiful, and it made me happy to hear there are goats nearby and a donkey, sweet! Time and how it escapes us...2008 does not feel that long ago, but... well, you know. Have fun tonight!
Wow, that was so interesting - thank you for the historical descriptions and the pics! Again, I cannot believe my good fortune in finding you on Substack and experiencing the connection I feel whenever you speak to us about places and people I would never have known. I am very grateful!
“on these places Rimbaud hoped, despaired and suffered”
Thanks for this. Nice to have the backstory of your obtaining the land. Be safe. Best of luck tonight. A good start to our journey.
Thank you for this post. What an interesting circle in life that you would get to shepherd the land. I've finished "I Promised To Be Good." I was so moved by the difference in his writing from youth where he was bold and seemingly invincible to his ending which was truly heartbreaking. I look forward to hearing more.
I completely agree about how moving the difference is from seemingly invincible to such suffering. Thank you for pointing it out.
Yes, I think you "have the house" as much as any of us has anything. Of course we all share the house and many more houses, lands and dreams don't we?
Of course.
Wow! You are bringing another world to life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Patti. Looking forward to more Smithposium and more venue visits.
thanks for the photos - I've been reading the Robb biography, the pictures add to my mental movies as I read of Arthur's adventures.
Well of course "you of all people" Who else should take care of land that you have cared about for so long?
Who knows maybe past life connections and experiences. Mysterious this life is.
Thank you Patti. Happy June 1st! We are off to a great start with poetry, place and travels. Staying tuned! Safe travels.
excited to go on the rimbaud journey…. land of a thousand goats..🐐
Indeed, who better than you, Patti! Goats-friendly, cat-friendly, people-friendly and poet-friendly. Rimbaud must be sending you a sign of acknowledgment from somewhere. I'm very happy to hear about this. Good luck with your concert today.
Thank you, Patti! It is amazing to hear you telling the story about acquiring the land and the house! Thank you for the journey!
Have a great concert tonight!
Enjoyed the video. The photo of the family patch next door is beautiful.
You of all people...
We don't know how the elderly woman came to choose you. A wise choice, I'd say.
Who better than you? Patti, no one better.
Thank you for the pictures and story! Love the "Happy Shepherd" picture.❤
What a ride! Imagine full circle. What a great story. So, what got you interested in Rimbaud in the first place? I kind of remember that you were very young.
I believe the artist, Amedeo Modigliani, created the initial spark!
I will answer all the relatable questions aa we go along. Including this one.
Enjoying the photos, (esp Happy Sheperd) and learning about Rimbaud, who has meant so much to you.
I feel lucky to be on this journey.
Best wishes for your concert tonight and see you tomorrow!
Patti, watching you actually realize the wanderlust dreams I had 55 years ago makes me so happy.
Would you please tell us what inspired your interest in Rimbaud?
Oh, that is wonderful! To hear how you got. the chance to own this house and land! Good luck for the concert tonight and stay healthy!
I'm enjoying the history and the picture of you looking so happy.
Patti is adding so much to my world and makes me so happy.
A joy!
Patricia Mcgreivy
Thank you to be the shepherd of Roche ! The picture of Roche in 1915 is very interesting. Houses in the mud surrounded by soldiers…it must have been quite similar in 1870… Arthur needed Illumination !!!! Hard life in those times.
Despite I have visited Roche in 2019 and listened to your concert in Cabaret vert and I love the countryside in the Ardennes , peaceful, green, forest….
You are Thé Ambassador of Rimbaud !
LOVE your pink 45R. I got the white. 🌸🌸🌸🥰
🎈Great start! The photos you included has helped me set the scene in my mind. Your joy in taking care of this land is evident in your speech and on your face and expression of the live video and also with the photo with you standing in the window. . .
How extraordinary that the teenager who couldn't afford 99 cents and shoplifted Illuminations from a Philadelphia bus station became the shepherd of the land where Rimbaud wrote so much of his inspiring work. The arc of a lifetime can be full of little wonders.
I agree!
So true Jim! Your wonderful expression ‘the arc of a lifetime...’ is so apt in relation to this happenstance
That photo of you in the window: you are radiating such contagious joy! Thank you, Patti!
Patricia,
You look exquisitely radiant! So much so I was a bit distracted admiring your beautiful garments and dainty jewelry all going so well with your vintage style specks, your braided silver strands, and your glorious smile.
I love your narrative & will soon return with a ✍
"Where do I begin...on the heels of Rimbaud moving like a dancing bullet thru the secret streets of a hot New Jersey night filled with venom and wonder. Meeting the Queen Angel in the reeds of Babylon and then to the fountain of sorrow to drift away in the hot mass of the deluge... To sing praise to the King of those dead streets, to grasp and let go in a heavenly way -- streaming into the lost belly of civilization at a standstill. Romance is taking over. Tolstoy was right. These notes are being written in a bathtub in Maine under ideal conditions, in every Curio Lounge from Brooklyn to Guam, from Lowell to Durango oh sister, when I fall into your spacy arms, can not ya feel the weight of oblivion and the songs of redemption on your backside we surface alongside miles standish and take the rock. We have relations in Mozambique. I have a brother or two and a whole lot of karma to burn... Isis and the moon shine on me. When Rubin gets out of jail, we celebrate in the historical parking lot in sunburned California..."
B. Dylan
.. I just happened to see this again after seeing your post here. From the liner notes of Desire. I was just on Bob dylan. Com to read the lyrics of Sara.. I'm in Portugal, but not drinking white rum, yet. I hadn't really considered that line much until recently. Somehow I hadn't seen Bob drinking white rum when I heard the line many times
I am again in a place at the same time Bob Dylan is in a place. I like this and over the years these trips are trips like no other, so I go on as many as I can.
In Bournemouth in 2007, the day after a show I met Bob's band by chance, in sea front restaurant bar. They were all really friendly. Without telling the whole story I could have bumped into Bob the next day, but I left the scene before he appeared... I saw him from a distance.. Anyway this has not much to do with your post, but I am in Porto, wandering about, well I am sitting on some grass drinking a beer, thinking about Rimbaud, Bob Dylan, and Fernando Pessoa.. who I had somehow not considered until about an hour ago, even though he was from Portugal, and the Book of Disquiet is a book that I have read quite a few times, or parts of it
Such wonderful photos ... all of them. I now know why you are so happy there ... and am eagerly looking forward to lots more Rimbaud. Thanks you, Patty. XO
Oooops! I meant "Patti" ...
Thank you. I really appreciate your providing context.
That last photo captures a joyful YOU…looking ageless
Thanks for sharing
Your precious love of words and those who write them comforts me. Thank you
An informative and beautiful introduction. Thank you Patti. It was perfect. Enjoy a beautiful day!!!
A lovely video. Thank you.
Hallowed grounds; you look so happy to be here . Mahalo for sharing these wonderful images and happy Rimbaud month !
Must be a wonderful experience
Thank you! So, so lovely. So appreciate what I learn from you. Paz ... Paix
I agree!
Amen.
I agree with you about Patti in the window, what that moment must have meant, and how appropriate that she should steward the land. Also, I love that you ran away at 10 and that you once had a goat named Vanilla.