A feast for the Senses

I am finally back.

And no, I’m not talking about physically. Physically, I have been back home in Auvergne for a little while now. I’m talking about mentally.

Sometimes you go through an experience that is so full, so intense, so completely absorbing that it takes a few days afterwards for your brain to catch up with what actually happened.

Last week, I had my first ever encaustic retreat in France.

And may I say… I was very, very blessed.

For my first retreat in France to be nine days long was perhaps slightly ambitious. Nine days is a long time! But I could not have asked for a more wonderful group of participants. We had people coming from France, but also from the States, and somehow, very quickly, we became this little temporary creative family.

We shared a passion for working hard, testing ourselves, experimenting and, occasionally, wondering whether we had completely lost the plot.

We went wild sketching—although I still need to find another word for that because, frankly, “sketching” makes it sound much less terrifying than it actually is!

What we were really doing was total immersion in the landscape.

And what a landscape it was.

A beautiful village, magnificent light, a meandering river, and a place that seemed to offer us something new every time we looked at it.

We worked with light and transparency. We built layers, carved back, scraped, added and removed. We took photographs and made endless observations. We learned to distil the essence and energy of an image without becoming too rigidly attached to it.

Or, as I kept saying: don’t marry the photograph.

And these women worked HARD.

Even with our wonderfully long, slow lunches, nobody wanted to leave the studio. They just kept going. And the work they created was incredible.

Of course, there was also food.

Because what would a French retreat be without food?

We had lunches and dinners prepared by the wonderful Clara, who I have now decided is some kind of culinary sorceress. Honestly, the food was so good that “slow lunch” took on a whole new meaning.

We also had a day out to Espelette in the Basque Country, wandering around this beautiful village, eating, exploring, and naturally ending up in a little spice shop.

Basically, the whole retreat became a feast for the senses.

And I came home completely fed.

Fed creatively. Fed emotionally. Fed intellectually.

And also… absolutely exhausted.

Nine days of encaustic, landscape, conversations, laughter, food, walking, teaching and making will do that to you!

And now, as I sit here in the garden, drinking my current favourite drink—yes, it’s a spritz—and watching my chickens, I am slowly coming back down to earth.

Although, to be honest, I think watching chickens has become a kind of philosophy for me.

But that’s another blog post.

And here’s the exciting part…

We’re doing it again.

The waiting list is now OPEN for the next retreat in France in May 2027, in the same beautiful place.

There will be only eight places, just like this time, so it will remain small, personal and very hands-on.

If this sounds like something you would love to be part of next year, send me a message and I’ll add you to the waiting list.

Booking information will follow when the time comes.

And yes… there will be more French retreats coming in the future. I have plenty of ideas, but only one at a time because life already has a tendency to be slightly overwhelming!

For now, I’m enjoying being back in France, watching the house progress, spending a little time in the garden, and trying to remember that I don’t always have to be doing something.

Although…

I am about to head back to Ireland for three weeks and another retreat—this time in Mulranny.

So expect another email.

Another blog post.

And, very probably, another story about food.

Until then, have a wonderful week.

Much love,

Isabelle