A month in the Centre Culturel Irlandais in Paris gave Catherine Foleyplenty of time to search her soul, mine her imagination - and have her portrait painted.
Foucault's pendulum swings back and forth in the great Panthéon basilica. It was the slow time-keeper that marked the passing of my month-long residency at the Centre Culturel Irlandais in Paris last November.
The Panthéon is where a great many French dignitaries are entombed and where the physicist, Léon Foucault, suspended a weighted 67-metre wire from its dome in 1851 to demonstrate how the earth rotates. And so, as the pendulum oscillated imperceptibly, my days as writer-in-residence slipped by too.
The Panthéon is truly at the centre of the city. It stands commanding views over Paris, and the Centre Culturel Irlandais is only a short walk away along the Rue Clotilde; the Jardin du Luxembourg is a stone's throw down the hill, with the Eiffel Tower beckoning in the distance and the great Notre Dame only a short hop to the right along the Rue Saint Jacques towards the River Seine.
The cultural centre is the former Irish College, which dates back to 1578. It was founded in the heart of the Latin Quarter, which was so called because all the students in the university-studded area spoke only Latin.
Stepping over the raised lintel into the courtyard of the college, one enters a faintly cloistered environment.
The once-thriving seminary, which was renovated and restored just over five years ago, is filled with a sense of other times. Along the eaves of an overhang that borders the inner courtyard are the names of Irish dioceses, such as Lismore, Raphoe, Ferns, Ossory, Killaloe, all resonating with age-old associations and a steady reminder of the many Irish connections.
Within the walls of the four-century-old building, there are many other echoes of the intense lives that were lived by former seminarians, students and scholars. Although reopened and rejuvenated in 2002, the college's rooms are still bare, the beds are still narrow and the air is still rarefied.
But a communal breakfast each day is a chance to break the silence, chat, make arrangements and swap tips on what's happening in the capital.
The 18th-century chapel is a place of calm for many of those who stay today, including Erasmus and research students. When residents run up and down the worn stairs or walk along the flagstones outside, there is a sense that the tradition of learning continues.
During its long history, the college was a refuge for the exiled Irish during penal times, a hospital for French soldiers during the Prussian shelling in 1879, a refuge for US citizens in 1945, and later a shelter for Polish clergy, including Karol Wojtyla, who was a student here for two years - later he became Pope John Paul II.
Today, the place is alive with artistic comings and goings, for example the French premiere of Here Lies, an installation dramatic piece with the Irish actor, Olwyn Fouéré, and the world premiere of music by Jane O'Leary and Dominique Probst, both took place in the centre last November.
The building is still concerned with solitary, spiritual soul-searching but, instead of priests and postulants, it is a place where artists, writers and musicians go, to do some private soul-searching and to pursue artistic goals.
Each day, during my stay, I could choose to either stay inside my room and work or go outside the college and wander about looking for a corner in a cafe in which to sit and write.
I modelled myself on Ernest Hemingway who used to sit and write like this in many of the quarter's nearby cafes, as described in his memoir of the time he spent in Paris in the 1920s, A Moveable Feast.
Wherever I sat, my aim was to push through to the world of my imagination. Some days, I wandered down to the river and over to the Marais. Sometimes I walked towards the Musée D'Orsay or the Louvre and went in to look at paintings by the great artists. Sometimes, if I was feeling energetic, I continued on through les Jardins des Tuileries, up towards the Arc de Triomphe and on to the newly refurbished Irish Embassy on Rue Rude.
Back in my cell-like room, when it was difficult to focus, I would stare out of the window and wonder about what I was trying to do, only to see the artist Mick O'Dea going into his studio to begin a portrait of whoever he had invited to sit for him. Each day, he began on a new subject and built up his collection as he prepared for his exhibition, which was to open on the last day of the month. One day, I was one of his subjects.
The sound of this apron-clad, Clare-born artist cranking up the easel, pulling down the shades, dragging chairs and washing palettes and brushes was enough to inspire me. With renewed energy and application, I would look down into my laptop screen and refocus, searching again for the key I needed to begin to write.
Irish artists and writers are invited to apply for a number of artistic residencies at the Irish College in Paris between September 2007 and July 2008. The deadline for applications is February 28th.
For further information, contact Sheila Pratschke on tel: 0033-1-58521030 or e-mail spratschke@centreculturelirlandais.com
