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I am two years old and am sitting on the shiny wooden floor wearing a soft yellow dress. My legs are stretched out before me as I watch my unaware father sitting near the open window. The white shear curtains desperately try to touch him but he is unaware of them as well. The sunlight has succeeded in wrapping itself around him but all he can see are his big shiny shoes. He is polishing them with such love, such focus. The big shiny boat shoes that will faerie him far, far away…
The first vision recorded as a landscape comes from my parent’s Bettle car.
It is also the only one I have as a memory as them two being a couple. It is an obsessive picture which makes sense in my personal history but I tend to question its reality continuously. Did it really happen ? I still don’t know.
I was a baby or kid, not really sure, and we were leaving my grandparents’ house. We are parked by the big green porch, I might have been on my mum’s knees. My father is getting into the car after few words with his parents. I can see my grandparents vaguely but my vision is attracted by the garden. My grandparents had a huge house by the Seine. The back garden for growing the vegetables, and the front for flowers and fruit trees.
On the left was the furnished garage were we lived, on the right a massive metallic garage in use, and in the middle the mansion. My eyes were contemplating the flowers of multiple colours. Mix of different types of flowers, roses only are stuck in my mind. In the foreground was the frame of the left back seat window of the car, then the wall with the vivid greens fence, then the flowers in myriad. Blur silhouettes of people talking and moving in front of the vegetation. It was a bright morning like late spring. The front garden was bathed in warm light and the characters and myself included, in the shades of the big trees.
Memories
Memories