I can’t believe it’s now been over a month since I arrived at Chateau d’Orquevaux. Over a month since I crossed over the border into fairyland, since the most inspiring experience of my life.
Nothing could have prepared me for my time at Orquevaux. I’m not sure I’ll ever find the words to fully capture this precious experience, and maybe that’s how it should be. I know this residency will continue to influence my life and writing in ways I don’t yet fully understand.
I’m home now, and it feels bittersweet. I love Tasmania, and I feel very fortunate to live in such a safe, beautiful place. But I also feel I’ve left part of my heart in Orqueveau, just as I’ve taken a little piece of her with me. We will remain connected forever, and this knowledge has only been reinforced by my speaking with the gorgeous bunch of artists who participated in this residency alongside me, as well as those who’ve come before. Because, though it might sound dramatic, leaving this place is akin to grieving.
It was a gift to be able to dedicate the kind of uninterrupted brain space necessary to deeply engage with my second novel. And what a ridiculously perfect environment in which to do so. I love forests, and I completely fell in love with those surrounding Orquevaux on all sides. I spent many an hour beneath autumnal canopies, watching the leaves fall and delighting in fairy toadstools and fungi of all kinds, listening to the creaking of branches and acorns pattering to the ground. I left my life in Hobart behind, to the point where at times I struggled to believe it even existed. Sometimes that’s just what you need to work on a novel.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I love my life here. I love living in Tasmania, and it’s nice to be back and working once again in my cute little home. But it’s also strange, as every traveller will know, to readjust to the life you left behind, and say goodbye to the one you gained overseas.
It’s impossible now to imagine my life without this experience, these people and this place, in it. Back at my own desk now, in my sunny little room, and deep into the final edits for my first novel, Orqueaux feels at once far away and close. I think about the connections I made and the adventures I had, the stories that sprung forth on forest walks and during all our dinner time conversations, every day, and I know in my bones that one day, I’ll return.
I could write and write about all the beautiful memories I made during those two weeks, but the most rare and precious part of all were the people who became family. Every single human, extraordinary talent aside, was kind and supportive, generous and playful and fun. There is tremendous power in witnessing ongoing, collective joy, and this group had it in spades. Together we created a space where we all felt safe to be vulnerable, and the creativity that is possible when this happens has the potential to change the world.
The generosity of Beulah and Ziggy – the vision that they saw and then gave to life to, is nothing short of remarkable. And I am so, unbelievably grateful I had the privilege of being part of the magic, of their story.
I left a piece of my writing behind, which will become part of the Permanent Chateau d’Orquevaux International Artists and Writers collection – it’s an honour to be amongst so much incredible talent.
Orqueveaux embodies wonder and enchantment. It’s a fairytale come alive. I’ve never found it so hard to leave a place, but I will carry a little piece of Orqueveau with me, always.
Thank you Beulah and Ziggy for the most priceless, unrepeatable experience.
I cannot recommend this residency highly enough. You can find out more and apply here
Arianne James 