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I guess it’s not all that surprising that a Parisian arts and culture centre with a giant golden flowerpot at its main entrance would lead me to discover a modern garden pot company.
Teracrea was at the Pompidou Centre as a temporary exhibit at the Printemps Design studio. I wasn’t allowed to take photos in the studio, so snapped this one from across the foyer. Hehe.
Anyway, Teracrea is a company “creating products designed to introduce greenery into internal architecture and offer new solutions to traditional pots for outdoor plants.” Exploring the concept of “greenery as a means of organising the space around it using different and alternative materials than terracotta,” Teracrea has introduced some fabulous new products.
Their Airplant is going to be a big seller, since tillandsias are so hot right now.
I also really like TV, above.
And since I am That Kind of Traveller (that is, disorganized, random, open) I literally stumbled into the Musee de Quai Branley and Patrick Blanc’s Vertical Garden. I’d thought this living wall was to be found at the Pompidou Centre, but wasn’t too upset when I found that it wasn’t. “I’ll run into it later,” I thought. And I did, later that rainy day.
How much do I love this living wall? I’d love to put one in my garden. Or maybe my bathroom. Love it. Love it. Love it.
Tomorrow: Giverny, and Monet’s garden.
I’m home. We had a wonderful time in France, and already miss it. Well, parts of it. Miss: the fresh, fresh, gorgeously-decadent food; the mind-blowing wines for under $10; the accessibility of great art, architecture and design; my sister. Don’t miss: the smoking; the humidity; how easy it is to overindulge.
Now it’s time to get caught up. I apologize for the lack of posts while I was away. I thought I’d do more blogging, but it’s really hard to devote time to it when there are bottles of wine to be enjoyed, new neighbourhoods to discover and catching up with my sister to do. Can you blame me? Didn’t think so.
I thought I’d break down the two weeks we were away into digestible chunks. Today I bring you Paris, Part One (or should that be Un?). The one week spent in Paris was much less floriferous than our time in the country, obviously, but perhaps because they don’t have easy access to backyards or farmland, Parisians really do try to integrate greenery into their lives. Their window boxes, for example, are incredible. At home people are always claiming they don’t have the space to garden. You people: please see the above photo.
Then there are the flower markets. My favourite, simply for it’s overwhelming size and accompanying perfume, is the much-photographed Marche aux Fleurs at Place Louis Lepine, which turns into a bird market on Sundays.
The parks in Paris proper are rather formal affairs; symmetrical and geometrical, with lawns that are meant for looking at, not picnicking on. Still, they are splendid when viewed from above, like this, the Parc du Champ de Mars (taken from the Eiffel Tower, natch!).
Tomorrow: discovery at the Pompidou Centre and that famous vertical garden.
I’m writing now from La Ferme de Rouffignac, a foie gras farm near Bellac in Limosin. Of all the farms and chambres d’hotes (B&Bs) we’ve stayed at so far, it is my least favourite – too commercial and lacking in character for my taste – but it has wifi (or as the French say, “wee-fee”). we have had some lovely stays, including one in an 11th century former poorhouse, and another in a 16th century farmhouse with an ancient carousel horse in our room. Tonight we are staying near Sarlat-la-Caneda on a farm along the footpath of Saint Jacques de Compostelle.
Now about the gardens. We’ve been to many, but my husband is standing over me, urging me to get going, so I’ll have to write about them later. For now, I’ve posted a couple of sample shots to whet your pallette. A bientot!
I mentioned a while back that I was going to France, but in the frenzied lead up to our flight, I ran out of time to do the actual “Okay, I’m leaving” post. So voila – I’m doing it now – albeit a bit late. Posts may be infrequent for the next two weeks, and I may not be able to respond to comments. But I will be reading them! And as usual I love to get your comments.
I’m writing from my sister’s apartment in Oberkampf, a funky neighbourhood in the 11th arrondisement. My husband is asleep on her couch, tired from a day of walking the Bastille market; a sunny picnic (which the French pronounce “peek-neek”) of our market treasures (the best cheeses ever, saucissoun, baguette, olives, and a really decent 2 Euro bottle of Bordeaux, followed by nougat and macaron) by the Seine; and finally a walk through the Marais, the old Jewish quarter – capped off by the best falalel ever. As you can see, we are travelling on our stomachs.
I do plan to see quite a few gardens while in France and will write about them as soon as possible. You can also expect photos of garden shops and florists, and general floral prettiness. A bientot!
After my brother-in-law shared these gorgeous photos, taken this past (rainy) weekend, I started thinking about designing for the rain. Rain is such a given here on the West Coast (especially during winter months) that designing your garden with the rain in mind is such an obvious (and necessary) thing. If you don’t think about drainage, the wet could kill your plants faster than the cold.
I’ve just learned about rain gardens (as a sustainable approach to stormwater management). Rain Gardens of West Michigan says:
A rain garden is constructed as a place to direct the rain from your roof or driveway, and is landscaped with perennial plant species native to our region. Rain gardens have loose, absorbent soils; a shallow, bowl-shaped ponding area; and are made to resemble the function of a natural meadow or light forest ecosystem.
I wonder why I haven’t heard of this being done locally. The benefits to the environment seem fantastic. Rain is usually something we cope with, not embrace. (Although I admit my heart sometimes skips a beat at the sight of raindrops on the Alchemilla mollis in my front bed.)
I’m discovering, however, that there are some very creative ways of using rainwater in rain garden design – beyond rain chains, though some of those are pretty too. Some great examples include this school, a recent ASLA winner, and this private residence done by Edgar David and Associates.
Hmm. One more thing to work into the design for my backyard. Blast.
Photos: Nathan Garfinkel.
See also:
A Place in the Rain: Designing the West Coast Garden
Instructions for creating a rain garden.
I introduced you all to Esther, official Heavy Petal farm animal representative, back in January. Well, yesterday I received the cutest birth announcement ever (sorry all you new moms and dads – you can’t beat fluffy little black sheep!): Esther, my adopted sheep, has had twins. How cute are they?!
Read more about Esther’s babies, and those of her sheep sisters here. (Thanks to Mandy Corry of the Schacht Fleece Farm for the photo and lovely announcement. You made my day!)
So, Al Gore is calling Canada’s climate change plan (Clean Air Act) “a complete and total fraud…designed to mislead the Canadian people,” while David Suzuki says it’s “a sham, and a complete abdication of our international commitment.” Meanwhile, in Nairobi, Canada “won” the international “Fossil Award” for “misleading” the world, “repudiating” the Kyoto Protocol and “flagrantly … washing its political laundry on the international stage.”
Canada? Misleading and fraudulent? Surely not my Canada.
Sadly, it’s true.
I didn’t really expect a whole lot from our uber-conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper in terms of climate change action. But I did expect that he wouldn’t try to fool us with a false plan. Let’s show him he can’t.
In our favour is the fact that it’s an election year in Canada, and Harper has a minority government. Let’s tell him we want a real strategy for climate change – one that doesn’t put Canada almost 20 years behind schedule on the Kyoto treaty targets.
Even if you’re not Canadian, send an e-mail and voice your concern. Do it now.
I apologize for my absence, especially my insistence that it’s been May 1 for, oh, the last three days.
I’ve been sick with a cold or flu or some such grossness, and when I get sick I basically just sleep. I have been sleeping for almost two days straight, with small jaunts to the loo and one particularly ambitious foray to the couch. (It didn’t last – I quickly realized that daytime TV is not worth sitting upright for.) So anyway, I finally just made it into the shower (yay!), and the exertion it took nearly sent me back to bed. However, before I head back to bed, I’d thought I’d write a quick post to tell you that my blogroll has just been fixed.
Probably the only people who have noticed that my blogroll hasn’t been updated in months are bloggers that have since written me off as a total bitch for not adding their blogs. Well, it wasn’t so much bitchiness as laziness – and I apologize regardless. In any case, it’s finally fixed and I can now add new links. I’m an all-inclusive linker, so don’t be afraid to email me for a link exchange.
In the future, I intend to categorize my links according to location, but baby steps… baby steps.
It’s the first of May today, and while the date has several important associations (notably Beltane or the first day of summer in the pagan tradition) as a “socialist Canadian” (as I was once called while travelling in the States), I like to remember that it’s also May Day.
I’m not going to take to the streets with placards today, but I will be rebelling in my own small way – sowing a few seeds of dissent through carefully-aimed seedbombs. I urge you to do the same. It doesn’t have to be seeds – try out some moss graffiti, or guerilla gardening, or dig up your lawn and plant some food.
Gardening is political. Resistance is fertile!
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