The Valley of the Painters

George Sand wrote: "In the last days of June 1857, I set off with two companions who just wanted to run: a naturalist and an artist who, at the same time, was an amateur naturalist. For them, it was all about exploring, in certain respects, the entomological fauna; in vulgar terms, the nature of the insects which inhabit our region. For my part, being blissfully ignorant, I had just promised them, by acting as their guide, a charming country to discover."

"In turn, we found paradise and chaos; it was an uninterrupted series of adorable or grandiose pictures, changing appearance with every step, because the river was very winding..."

"...and, since in many places it hit the rock, you often had to climb up and down, consequently seeing different views, always happy, these marvelously composed places were connected to each other like a series of poetic banks."

"From the top of a rocky path which runs off, as it can, to join the main road, you embrace the whole village. From whichever side you look at it, this privileged village is charming The hills which surround it have smooth forms ; its masses of greenery are nicely laid out, its rocks, from a distance, have this beautiful lilac tone which is particular to the mica schists of the banks of the Creuse, a warm color is somehow formed of several dark tones. Mysteries of color, the true painters grab you and make you notice it, but they do not explain it to you. Which artist has ever known the secret of their art ? It is through feeling that the revelation comes to them, but feeling is not explained by reasoning."

"What does the size of things matter! It is the harmony of color and the proportion of forms that constitute beauty."

"These little paths, at times so charming when they unwind on the fine sand of the shore or among the tall, fragrant grasses of the meadows, at times so tough when you have to look for them from rock to rock in a chaos of picturesque collapses, have been tracked only by the little feet of flocks and their shepherds. It is an Arcadia, in every sense of the word."

"In this rustic countryside, there is a poetry which does not know how to account for its pleasures, but which the spirit savors in a mysterious tranquility."

"For some years now, the small village of Gargilesse, located near the confluence of these flowing waters, has become the meeting place, the Fontainebleau of a few well-informed artists. Little by little, it will certainly attract many others, because it fully deserves it. It is a nest under the greenery, protected from the cold winds by masses of rocks and projections of fertile and gently rugged ground. There, white water streams, twenty or so source, run along the foot of the houses and maintain the copious greenery of the enclosures."

"You then find yourself in front of a deep tear, covered with mica schist rocks with a charming form and color; at the bottom of this gorge flows a furious torrent in winter, a quiet mirror in summer; this is the Creuse, into which flows a torrent which is smaller, but barely tamer in the rainy season, and no less delightful when the fine days come."