LES RENCONTRES DE MAUBOURGUET - a break from The Shaping of Water

Last weekend our nearest town/village (they don't seem to be able to able to make up their minds), Maubourguet, held its 24th. Rencontres - a kind of mixed arts and sport (and culture, although there wasn't much of that) festival. The sports section consists mainly of rugby and bullfighting and sports personalities are invited to attend, some as artists. There is the usual eating, drinking and fairground, which you would expect, but the main interest for us is the eating and drinking art.

 

Ruth set aside the keyboard, and thoughts of The Shaping of Water, and picked up again her trusty paintbrushes and charcoal. The main artistic activity consists of an Exhibition in the Town Hall and a Nuit des Regards in the main street. 50 or so artists - mainly painters, but with a few sculptors and a tailor for good measure (!) - are invited to install themselves under the awnings to produce a work of art over the evening and then, on the Sunday, the works are auctioned for charity, this year for two children's charities based in Toulouse.

 

Time for some pictures.......

 

The first three were taken in the Exhibition. The first shows the general scrum (!) when the artists were let in to view each others' work.

 

The second one shows Ruth's work "Harpy". And the third shows a visitor in awe of the picture.



Here is Ruth at work.

And this is the finished work, a kind of tetraptych, the wings of which are turned to show the development of human life.

 

 The auction afterwards raised over 17,000 Euros.



MY, BUT IT WAS HOT!

As you may know, I am not much of a walker - except when I am "running" paradoxically enough. However, this year I took part in my second organised walk. I walked into it backwards, so to speak.

I had been asked to help with the inscriptions for the meal which was to follow the walk and fishing contest which take place every summer in the village. I cycled up to the village hall and my general plan was to go home straight afterwards. Cowardice and a feeling of "What the Hell" meant that I allowed myself to be drawn into the walk itself.

Here are Pierre, the walk organiser, and me walking at speed and in step not far into the walk.

Here are the rest of the walkers.

Here's the fishing contest.

And here's the meal. I'd been home to collect Ruth by this time.

Apparently this July was the hottest on record.