Photography and text by Corey Amaro
The French chateau and the secrets untold….
The unknown, the mystery of the empty space that renders a silent screen speaking to our imagination. The abandoned chateau spoke volumes to my curiosity, louder was the voice of possibilities…my friend Linda ignited the fire when she lead the way through the overgrown bush to the backside entrance of the chateau.
Behind the chateau was an older stone facade, another older chateau
ruin from the sixteenth century. Awestruck. Linda told me that last
year's rain brought down more of the facade, notable the oval window. During the French revolution the sixteenth century chateau was destroyed. Later a newer one was built in its place…
How could my imagination stand still? My thoughts, as a piece of music played (accarezzévole) sipping between the cracks, the keyholes, the open beams and broken windows. What inspired them to create such a beauty? How could I stand amongst such history and not feel the reality that this place once lived. It had its day, glorious day, when an architect and mason laid the first cornerstone for such a dream. I wonder did the Chatelaine think in mauve colored toile du Jouy, did she commission silverware with monograms and dishes from Serves? I imagine the first night with the moonlight caressing the gilded mirror, the duvet with its freshly plucked down feathers, the empty wine glasses being carried away by the servant who noticed a rose petal from the nearby vase… she picked it up slipping it under her pillow that night long ago.
Ah, the linen covered pillow… the story weaves it way to and fro, thread in needle, moment by moment, piercing through, pulling up, bringing together past to the present moments. Whatever happened to the linens in their closets, let alone to the ones left in French Husband's Great Uncle's closet?
Note:
The abandoned chateau is in the heart of Provence. It is not on the market. It needs a massive of amount of structural work. We could not go inside, though how I wanted to. Sadly it is falling apart just like the stone chateau next to it.
My friend Linda lives next door to it! Lucky thing, lucky duck!
Also….
The winners of the story posted earlier this week, I'll decide Saturday…. add one if you want to win an 18th century book.
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