On silence.

We’ve just hung new art in the servants’ corridor. It’s an oversized and surprisingly minimalist table top by flamboyant designer Marcel Wanders. We’ve titled it Luna. Hanging the heavy panel flush to the wall without it falling proved difficult and stressful, involving power tools and loud conversation between Thomas and mason Ulysse, equally as stubborn about the best approach. But now, there’s only silence.

Lescure exists at a dreamlike remove from our noisy lives in the city and adding art to the house turns up the quiet even further. Case in point: walking under the stillness of this magic moon we brought into the already serene staircase. I like to believe that the circle is slightly less than full. Perhaps not, but it’s my flirtation with the traditional Japanese aesthetic and its love for asymmetry and emptiness. From the moon-enhanced silence, I sense the old corridor’s mood. Unlike me, these stained walls and ancient steps are not afraid to be still. There’s no turmoil of thoughts. No lengthy discussions within, with imaginary partners. There’s no void to fill, this stillness is a deep and rich space.

Here I am, spellbound on the soft tones of the wall’s blemishes and the subtle variations in the worn stone, moved by the texture of the metal and the patina of the wood. This moon has handed me the key to a hidden door, revealing the true beauty of these modest stairs.