Ran Ortner, Painter

... but then came to realise that art is not a cleverness contest. It is not one's capacity to be inventive.  It is really an honesty contest ... the capacity to truly be that thing that you are.

Ben Ortner.

Ran Ortner paints the most extraordinary paintings.

I would love to live in a room with his work there on the wall, reminding me of the sea that I love, the sea I'm so far from now.

Here's a documentary (in progress). 

Ran Ortner Trailer (documentary in process) from Todd Holland on Vimeo.

Le Touquet-Paris-Plage ... and my bracelet.

Last weekend, Gert and I were wandering the wet streets of Le Touquet Paris Plage, about 200kms from Antwerp, playground of wealthy Parisians ... or so rumour goes.

He had booked us the Sunday night special in a rather marvellous hotel and it was really lovely.  But the weekend ended up being about more than that.   I have been searching, for a very long time, for a bracelet I could wear constantly, without it breaking and devastating me on a regular basis.  As has been the story so far ...

We were strolling along the rain-soaked streets, looking in shop windows and amusing ourselves before dinner when I spotted a beautiful silver bracelet.  I had to smile ... of course I was going to find a silver bracelet in the playground of wealthy Parisians.  Not being one myself.

Gert called me back as I walked on, pointing to the signs that said '70% discount' and 'closing down sale'. 

We knew it was impossible but we decided to wander in and ask anyway.  There's something rather nice about bracelets when you're a photographer.  Don't ask me why but I relate them to the whole practice of photography.

I tried it on, loved it, and asked how much.  He pointed to the 70% discount sign and did the maths for me.  I was stunned ... and delighted ... and feeling kind of guilty about picking up a beautiful silver bracelet at 70% off.

We walked out smiling, unable to believe how fortunate I had just been.

And the next day, before leaving, I saw this man on the beach and he seemed like a photograph.

 

Long Ago, I Lived Here ...

I lived on the edge of Otago Harbour, out on the peninsula, and scenes like this were everyday kind of scenes. And I often slipped out of the house, usually with my dog, and wandered out into those early mornings ... any season.  It was always stunning.

I never took them forgranted, I loved every day that I spent out there.  It was only that I needed to see the world.  It was good to go home and visit it all again.

A New Week, Genova

Friday night’s jazz and cooking evening had to be cancelled, as the cold sucked all of my energy out of me.  Then Saturday’s dinner at Arenzano was postponed till Sunday, due to ... my cough, lack of energy and etc.

Saturday night was a nightmare.  I coughed until 6am, then slept until 10.30am.  Francesca, Beppe, Romi and Marco were so kind putting up with the tired creature who arrived for lunch.  Then again, the conversations were so interesting that I think they revitalised me. 

Last night, I took cough mixture, a natural kind, and can you believe it ... I slept.  Almost all night.  It was a stunning departure from recent nights.

I bounced out of of bed at 8.30am today, dressed and caught the bus out to Boccadasse, deciding that these new energy levels needed tested out alongside the sea, with a stroll on Corso Italia. 
The photograph below was a part of the view ... it was lovely out there, just lovely.