Wholeheartedness ...

November 15, 2014

Lunch with that View of Mont Blanc ...

October 21, 2014

Mont Blanc yet gleams on high: the power is there, The still and solemn power of many sights And many sounds, and much of life and death. In the long glare of day, the snows descend Upon that Mountain; none beholds them there, Nor when the flakes burn in the sinking sun, Or the sunbeams dart through them.

Percy Bysshe Shelly, Poet.

The excitement over breakfast these mornings is no longer about an espresso, toast and peach jam ... no. These mornings it's all about my effervescent iron drink. 6 days into the 4 months before retesting and I can do the stairs a little more simply and the heart palpitations are almost gone.

I've stopped coffee for the moment and may not begin again until Genova, at the end of November. Let's see it.

In the meantime, I've been torturing myself ... selecting, deselecting, and reselecting images for the exhibition that opens in 2 weeks. Nothing is more guaranteed to leave my finding my photography lacking than imagining I can entertain a vast range of people with my images.

The only good news is that, while searching, I've found photographs of time spent in remarkable places ... like this table that offered a rather superb view of Mont Blanc. At 4,810 m (15,781 ft) it is the highest mountain in the Alps.

Napolean and Excess ... perhaps.

June 26, 2014

You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war.

Napoleon Bonaparte.

I was wandering through the Château de Fontainebleau and found this room. I've never taken much interest in the things Napolean did however his great big old palace suggests he was an excessive kind of guy.

However I'm reading Eduardo Galeano's book, Mirrors, and this means I am never going to form a good opinion of Napolean. Not via these pages.

Galeano's journey though ... highly recommended.

Château de Fontainebleau, France

June 19, 2014

Imagination rules the world.

Napoleon Bonaparte.

It was a huge day in France today ... and while in the area, of course, we wandered off to explore Napolean's place in Fontainebleau.

Favourite moment was escaping the 3 tour groups (with guides) who dogged our footsteps and finding ourselves alone when we reached this magical corridor.

I am quite the brat when it comes to preferring to visit popular places alone. We achieved that illusion today.

See.

Inside a Church, France

June 18, 2014

A Garden Sculpture, Barbizon in France.

June 18, 2014

Belgium, 2-1 against Algeria.

Second goal at 80 minutes.

Barbizon, France

June 18, 2014

We have returned to the hotel so the Belgian bloke can watch Belgium play Algeria in the World Cup.

Currently this is not going well, at 67 minutes we have 1-0 to Algier however it has been lovely for me to sit down and go through my photographs ...

We wandered all over the area today, visiting Barbizon too. As in, The Barbizon school of painters were part of an art movement towards Realism in art, which arose in the context of the dominant Romantic Movement of the time. The Barbizon school was active roughly from 1830 through 1870. It takes its name from the village of Barbizon, France, near the Forest of Fontainebleau, where many of the artists gathered.

Source: wikipedia.

It is incredibly, stunningly beautiful there but very expensive. It wasn't a love at first sight kind of response but it was a beautiful village to stop a while in.

Update: at 70 minutes, Belgium scored.

Wandering, near Fontainebleau, France

June 18, 2014

This church. I couldn't resist slipping inside. It was completely empty and really quite beautiful ... another small glimpse of Moret-Sur-Loing.

Found in a River in France

June 18, 2014

I looked down, while crossing a bridge in the town of Moret-Sur-Loing, and saw this ...

I liked it and spent some time trying to capture something of the River Loing.

Karen Karbo's Challenge - Live Like Julia

October 16, 2013

Rule Number 4: Obey your whims because you never know what you might find at the end of an impulse.

Some time ago, Karen Karbo invited bloggers to take up the challenge to Live Like Julia.

She had written a book, Julia Child Rules. Lessons on Savoring Life. The challenge was to pick a rule and live it.

Rule Number 4 stood out for me - obey your whims. Mostly because it's a thing that I do. And just after she had put her idea out there in the world, a whim was offered up ... a whimsical invitation, or two really.

I'm a New Zealander who lives in Belgium and I left home 10 years ago. I had two superb years living in Istanbul before meeting and marrying a Belgian bloke and moving to Antwerp.

In August, 2013, I was over in Italy running a photography workshop for women. My cousin joined me and returned to Belgium with me. After just a few days, that cousin called Julie invited me to go with her on one of those road trips ... the kind that are born out of a few red wines perhaps.

So, how about, she proposed ... flying to Milan, stopping in Verona, heading into Croatia, driving on into Hungary for 2 nights in Budapest? Then Vienna 'because of The Sound of Music', she said. Back into Trieste in Italy, then into Venice (an impulsive whimsical stop as it turned out) before continuing on to Lake Como.

I said, Okay, as you do.

And we did. 8 days of whirlwind roadtripping. I loved Budapest best of all probably but was impressed by Croatia as well. I have loved Italy for such a long time that it doesn't need stated really.

Budapest won the best food award. There was this dish called Sztrapacska (which may not actually be Hungarian but who cares. I tasted it there for the first time and it was divine). Or perhaps it was first equal with a stunning mushroom pasta I devoured in Trieste. It still haunts me. Al Barattolo is the restaurant if you find yourself there.

But wait ... there's more, as so many of those old tv advertisements used to promise.

My Belgian friend, Ruth, had emailed me weeks before the roadtrip was dreamt up ... describing a man called Jim Haynes. Based in Paris, he held weekly dinners in Paris. Did I want to go with her?

Who could resist these words taken direct from his website: Every week for the past 30 years, I've hosted a Sunday dinner in my home in Paris. People, including total strangers, call or e-mail to book a spot. I hold the salon in my atelier, which used to be a sculpture studio. The first 50 or 60 people who call may come, and twice that many when the weather is nice and we can overflow into the garden.
Every Sunday a different friend prepares a feast. Last week it was a philosophy student from Lisbon, and next week a dear friend from London will cook.
People from all corners of the world come to break bread together, to meet, to talk, connect and often become friends. All ages, nationalities, races, professions gather here, and since there is no organized seating, the opportunity for mingling couldn't be better. I love the randomness.
I believe in introducing people to people.
I have a good memory, so each week I make a point to remember everyone's name on the guest list and where they're from and what they do, so I can introduce them to each other, effortlessly. If I had my way, I would introduce everyone in the whole world to each other.

Did I feel like a short jaunt to Paris, she wrote. 3 hours by car, we would just stay the night?

It was a whim, an adventure. How could I say no?

Of course I didn't. Ruth and I set off at 8am on Sunday, 13 October, 2013. We crossed the border into France and out came the sun ... on a day when torrential rain ruled back in Antwerp.

We arrived, we wandered Parisian streets. We were lost, we were found. We stopped to drink wine. And we called in at one of my holy of holies ... Shakespeare and Company, a bookshop ... another Parisian legend, one you must also visit if you pass through.

And then to the dinner that evening. Jim's Dinner. We were welcomed, as were so many others, and we began with a bowl of Borscht, and followed on with some kind of divine meatloaf and vegetables. Pure comfort food on that cool Autumn night there in Paris.

Best of all, I met Jim ... and so many beautiful souls from all over the world. They came from San Francisco and Scotland, NYC and London, from Australia and Ireland ... from Germany, Italy, and France too. And we ate, and we opened our souls some, there in that space that Jim Haynes has created.

Dessert was some kind of fruit-filled chocolate cake. There was wine and water and all kinds of other drinks too. But mostly, in spite of ... or perhaps due to the food there on offer, people talked. And talked. And laughed. And circulated.

I met the truly lovely Rachel, from 60 Postcards.com. and her friend, Caroline. I met women running a workshop that brought joy back into the lives of women burned out by life. I met a lawyer who had recently moved from Manhatten to London, and an Irish man who claimed he fled Ireland in fear of his life. But I could tell, he had kissed that Blarney Stone on his way out. He was delightful. There was an Australian who said he would never go back, a German woman who had moved to the States many years earlier, and a lovely couple from San Francisco.

There was the Italian actress/yoga teacher, the one who was following her dreams and had just moved to Paris, and the beautiful group of Scottish women. The mother, her two daughters, spending time in the city before separating again, one bound for Canada, the rest going home.

The spirit, the soul of the gathering was an outpouring, it seemed, of being yourself in a place where it was permitted ... demanded even. It was magical 3 hours that both invigorated and drained me. It was an energy surge like nothing I had ever experienced.

I didn't take as many photographs as I had hoped to take but I had a most marvelous time talking with those people there at Jim's Place.

A glimpse, just a glimpse below ... Lake Bled, in Slovenia.

Snapshot

October 15, 2013

It's been on odd going away on adventures not of my own making ... to places I hadn't dreamed of but it's been grand. Absolutely excellent, in fact.

I've spent most of these last two months traveling, oftentimes feeling like Alison in Wonderland. So ... if I haven't been exploring beautiful new locations and meeting most excellent people, I've been unpacking and preparing for the next big adventure.

Nicaragua was mentioned today but I have heard stories of wildlife I don't care to meet there and so now it is that I must prepare to face a Belgian winter ... it's here. Oh how Belgium embraces that rotten season, wringing every last drop of greyness and misery out and dumping it over us here in the flatlands. Our previous winter lasted into July, more or less, if I'm telling the story.

I feel gloomy today, as darkness began descending much earlier than I recall it descending way back in August when my travels began.

Belgians have already told me of yesterday, that sunny day I spent in Paris ... was pure misery over here in Antwerp. I feel like I should stockpile some vitamin D, and buy up all new material that slightly superb Australian, Tim Minchin, produces during this new season that I do not, in any way, enjoy.

Paris in Autumn

October 15, 2013

Yesterday, Ruth and I left the Belgian rain and grey skies behind as we crossed the border and entered France. Paris is about 3 hours, by car, from Antwerp.

We arrived around lunchtime and spent our afternoon wandering ... visiting my beloved Shakespeare and Company Bookshop, wandering on to the Panthéon, over in the Latin Quarter.

We meandered really, taking photographs of this thing and that but mostly, we simply enjoyed our 24 hours in Paris.

We zipped back across the border today and voila, in under the grey clouds and rain. So here's a glimpse of how Paris was ... 13 October, 2013.

Jim Haynes,and His Fabulous Sunday Dinners In Paris

October 14, 2013

Every week for the past 30 years, I've hosted a Sunday dinner in my home in Paris. People, including total strangers, call or e-mail to book a spot. I hold the salon in my atelier, which used to be a sculpture studio. The first 50 or 60 people who call may come, and twice that many when the weather is nice and we can overflow into the garden.
Every Sunday a different friend prepares a feast. Last week it was a philosophy student from Lisbon, and next week a dear friend from London will cook.

Jim Haynes, Paris Sunday Dinners.

I'm not sure I can even begin to give you a sense of how incredible tonight was ...

I met a magical man who invites complete strangers into his home, disarms them somehow, like a wizard who works his magic for good ... who invites total strangers to leave their egos, their barriers, their 'stuff' at the door, and simply get on with meeting whoever is there at that Sunday dinner.

If I had to sum it up, tonight, before the photographs have even been viewed ... I would write of a talk-fest that simply made my heart sing. So ... once my camera card reader and I are reunited, there are stories to tell and photographs to post.

The photograph below ... unrelated and yet, it is all about a little bit of magic that happened in Berlin one day and therefore, it seems like an appropriate placeholder.

More to follow on the morrow.

France ...

August 20, 2013

You must learn one thing.

The world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
Except the one in which you belong.

David Whyte, extract from Traveling With Pomegrantes.

I was in France these last 5 days, near Lyon, for a beautiful wedding and was startled to realise that not every hotel offers good internet connections. The one I was on was pre-Flintstones and I was unable to reach the back-end of my website.

It was disappointing because I use my blog like a journal on occasion. I was reading a superb book full of ideas that I would love to have noted and there were photographs like the one below, taken that first evening.

And now, two full days to process a few hundred wedding photographs before flying out unbelievably early on Thursday.

Tot straks.

In Reflection ...

June 22, 2013

The possibilities I saw in this made me stop and play a while, my camera and I, out there in Bourgogne.

Laura Young

June 16, 2013

Laura's words have been haunting me ...

Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like if our only labels were our names and all we had to do with our life was figure out how to flesh that out, just that one name. Stop worrying about being a good mother, daughter, son, neighbor, grandfather, and all the rest of it and just figure out what it means to be "X".

Seems it could take a person their entire life to figure out how to do that well.

She's a photographer, a writer, a river girl, so she writes ... and so much more.