Charlotte in New York (2 page)

Mama is going to Giverny tomorrow to help Raymonde pack our things. Then on to Paris to buy clothes for New York. She says New Yorkers are crazy for anything with a French label in it, and she'll have the “crème de la crème,” the best of the best. I hope she finds a beautiful dress for me. I bet she will!

April 29, 1894

The Grands Sables beach
Le Pouldu, Brittany

Today we finally saw Monsieur Gauguin! He was sitting on a rock at the top of the cliffs along the beach. The wind caught his black cape—he looked like a huge bat hunched over his sketchbook. Maybe even a vampire!

Papa told me Monsieur Gauguin likes to say, “I close my eyes to see.” That means he paints from his imagination. He doesn't set up his easel outdoors to paint what's before him the way the Impressionists do. He takes his sketchbook back to the studio and makes his paintings there. Not only that, he won't mix colors and paint things as they really look—he doesn't care about that. He uses pure color, right from the tube.

When Monsieur Gauguin saw us looking at him, he put his sketchbook under his arm and marched away. “Now
there's
a man who doesn't want to be bothered,” said Papa.

May 2, 1894

The Buvette de la Plage
Le Pouldu, Brittany

Papa excused himself before dessert tonight to work on his painting. I wasn't ready to leave the dining room—not with Monsieur Gauguin at the next table! And Marie Poupée's “Crêpes Sauterelles” still to come for dessert. She calls them “Grasshopper Crêpes” because they jump high in the air when she flips the pan to turn them over. Then she fills them with pears cooked in sugar and butter. Yummy!

I knew Monsieur Gauguin was a woodcarver as well as a painter, but I was surprised to see he had carved geese and cherries on his “sabots,” his wooden shoes. And painted the geese white with yellow feet, and the cherries bright red!

Monsieur Gauguin is mean. He doesn't like dogs very much—and dogs don't like him! When he stood up to leave, Toby growled. Monsieur Gauguin raised his cane as if to hit Toby, then marched out of the room. His cane is carved, too–green frogs and a serpent with a twisty red tongue.

I want to tell Papa, but that will have to wait. He's busy making a painting of the cottage we pass on our way down to the beach. He says that, although it may seem easy, it's really very difficult to choose colors that are different from the ones in the landscape and still have them look convincing on the canvas, as if they belong there. I think I'll try that myself.

May 4, 1894

The Buvette de la Plage
Le Pouldu, Brittany

On my breakfast tray this morning was an envelope addressed to “Mademoiselle Charlotte.” With this mysterious note inside.

I asked Marie Poupée whom it was from. “Aucune idée!”—No idea!—she said, and hurried out. I can't wait to show it to Lizzy. Now I have to hurry. We're off to Le Havre to catch the ship to New York. It takes two whole days to get there, and Papa wants to get an early start.

Le Mont-Saint-Michel

By the side of the road
Somewhere in France

I'm glad we stopped to change horses. I can't write in the coach—Toby likes to sit on my lap and look out the window. We just saw a fairy castle rising out of the sea. Papa says it's really a village called Le Mont-Saint-Michel. When the tide comes in, the village is surrounded by water. When the tide goes back out, there's nothing but quicksand all around. The fishermen must know where it's safe to wade—at least I hope they do!

May 5, 1894

The Ferme St. Siméon
Honfleur, Normandy

No wonder Papa chose this hotel. Lots of painters stay here, including our neighbor in Giverny, Monsieur Monet! I saw him playing dominoes under the apple trees. When I told him I'm going to New York, he said he had never been. And would I bring him back “un petit quelque chose”—a little something. I promised I would. Papa says you can find anything under the sun in New York. What will I find, I wonder?