With sawdust and old coal dust and probably asbestos flying around as I try to "make room for one more" in our old house, this is a day that seems far away from so many of the things and projects and people who have been so central to my life for the last decade. La Fonderie: to value, encourage, inspire, and embolden Christians working in the arts.
Then, a quick pause to check email. Like a cool breeze on a hot Missouri day, a message from a friend. No text, just a link to an article made up of a series of interviews with several artists who are a part of La Fonderie. It is in French, so maybe not accessible to everyone.
Reading their perspectives and a bit of their stories reminded me why we worked so hard for so long in Paris, and why we still care so deeply for the city. (Okay, there are also the cafes and bridges...)
Still waiting for the mist to burn off in Missouri, these voices were a promise that what we do can make a difference.
And for that I am grateful.
Where are you investing?
The illusion wanes, and in time we return
to our noisy cities where the blue
appears only in fragments
high up among the towering shapes.
Then rain leaching the earth.
Tedious, winter burdens the roofs,
and light is a miser, the soul bitter.
Yet, one day through an open gate,
among the green luxuriance of a yard,
the yellow lemons fire
and the heart melts,
and golden songs pour
into the breast
from the raised cornets of the sun.
from "The Lemon Trees"
by Eugenio Montale
(Translated by Lee Gerlach)