Ring at my door and I may not be home. Ring at my heart and I always am.

At l'Eglise de Compesières even the door leading to the powder room is enchanting...

You pull open the heavy wooden portal only to enter a stone floor room, pitch black, with two doors leading off to the right. If you're lucky, you pick the powder room door; if you're not so lucky, you greet the Mayor in his office.

But the minute you wrap your freezing fingers around this ancient handle, imagination begins to spin and dance - and the music you hear groping its haunting fingers toward you lures you back to the holy sanctuary...

I've been gone ... I know.

But the doors through which I entered were so magical and astonishing, so lovely and dreamlike that I have wondered how I could bring just a bit of the fairy dust that showered me your way.



Last week I was invited to a concert in Geneva, with Mozart that would melt your heart. It did mine.



Would you like to see pictures of the ancient church in the country that gave agonizing birth to luscious strains of music on a cold and snowy night?