Residency Reflections From France
It has been a few weeks now, and I have finally gotten to reflect on a wonderfully transformative time at Château d'Orquevaux Artists & Writers Residency!
From the people to the workshops to the time spent unplugged, there was just so much to love; I would be lying if I said I didn’t adore every aspect of it!
Found family group photo
To say I was overwhelmed upon arriving would be an understatement. I mean, I am 21, jet-lagged, and alone in France. That being said, it didn’t take long for me to realize that this place had a whole lot of magic, which, to be fair, is bound to happen when you’ve moved into a castle for three weeks.
But it wasn't just the castle; it was also the community of creatives from all over, doing all kinds of different things, and living vastly different lives, all in one place. I haven’t felt more understood and supported than I did right then. Frankly, I hadn’t laughed that hard, felt so deeply, or held that much confidence in a long time. I didn’t even realize until this experience that I was mostly an overworked shell with too many things left to process. And here? I had all the time and space to do just that, the best way I know how. Creatively.
It might seem a tad comical. I am young, so…seriously? How overworked could I be? But, truth be told, the past year has been difficult in ways I couldn’t fully describe in a singular blog post. What matters is that I had room to heal and create, alongside others who were doing the very same.
Studio time, best spent on the floor
I’ve made the impact of this experience abundantly clear, but what did my days look like? Well, predominantly like the image above, in my space, creating, pondering, lying on the floor, or a combination of the three. My studio was in the Yellow House, a few minutes’ walk from the actual Chateau, where I slept, participated in workshops, experienced life, and drank plenty of champagne.
I truly love the space. Two other incredibly talented emerging artists shared the Yellow House with me. It was just enough presence to never be alone, but I still had my quiet. I will treasure all the times I heard music drifting from Sophia’s studio down the hall, or I looked out my door and waved to Elizabeth, across the way from me. I loved being able to crack open a window and hear the birds, though that did mean coexisting with the flies. Worth it. I left a piece of my creative soul in La Maison Jaune.
Hiking Le Cul du Cerf
What was I doing when I wasn’t making? Well, the more apt question might be: what wasn’t I doing?
From life drawing to swimming (every single day), to hiking to talking, to watching the most fabulous performance of Rock Lobster I have ever seen, I spent my time connecting. With both the place itself and the people around me.
There is something so necessary about disconnecting and being able to finally pause. I now believe that it is in those pauses where we find ourselves, or maybe we just meet ourselves exactly where we are, and that is enough. Orquevaux gave me the space to do that, and I already deeply miss it. Though it is nice to have access to a TV here and there.
Open studio
In the end, I left with lifelong connections, new technical art skills, a closer bond to myself, and the ability to survive an airplane fruit tart.
In all seriousness, I think my gratitude for this experience is evident. Even now, as I write this, I feel the peace I needed this evening. To everyone I met and to everyone who made this possible, I am so lucky to have gotten to know you.
To Orquevaux, who reminded me that slowing down isn't the opposite of creating; it is often where the best work begins.