Paris Parfait

Tea and sympathy

Tea and sympathy at my friend's petit chateau near Versailles.

 

Bonjour les tous! In Paris, I had the great pleasure of spending time with my dear friend Gabrielle in her gorgeous, newly-renovated home. Gabrielle met me at Gare du Nord. But our rendezvous turned out to be a comedy of errors, thanks to the Thalys train's hour-late arrival; my phone's lost network coverage and mad traffic jams in the city. Of course the main purpose of the trip was visiting an ENT to determine the cause of recurring dizzy spells. Initial tests suggest it's an inner-ear problem; further tests are scheduled next week.

Also in Paris, I had lunch in my old neighbourhood, then stood in line for ages during les soldes. En route to Amsterdam, Thalys abruptly decided to end its service at Schiphol. Passengers were sent first to one platform, then another to catch an inner-city train to Amsterdam. I felt sorry for all the confused and angry travelers scrambling with their luggage, with little advice and no assistance from Thalys staff. Upon boarding the inner-city train, most passengers were left standing, trying to balance their luggage all the way to Amsterdam.

Again, we were well past our scheduled arrival at Amsterdam Centraal. Habitual delays seems to be a problem with Thalys. Their Ill-timing is due in part to slow-moving trains through Belgium, with international and local trains sharing a single track. Belgium really needs to get its act (and its government) together. These days, traveling through the country either by rail or by car (every journey interrupted with multiple roadworks and diversions) is rarely pleasant.

Falling into the canal

At home Saturday, I went in the back garden to inspect the hortensia (hydrangea) growth. Suddenly I felt dizzy, lost my balance and fell backwards into the canal! Needless to say, a very long hot shower followed.

Now I'm trying to catch up with ongoing projects and correspondence - with time out to photograph the summer's first  "Kasemarkte Marches au Fromage" in Edam -  before the next dash to Paris.

Wishing a very Happy Independence Day to my fellow Americans!

Of loss and promise

Shrine and altar, Bhaktapur, Nepal.

How strange life is...This week I've been preoccupied with reading and thinking about the tragic loss of two brilliantly-talented photographers: Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros, who were killed in Libya.  Each man left an enduring legacy of remarkable images and humanitarian work.

"...Along the rocky path to peace,
tears wash away the blood of innocents
spilled in someone else's cause."

- from the poem "I will remember you"

I've been thinking about how little time we are given to make a positive impact on this world. And time is flying; it's only after a health scare - or turning 50 - that you realise just how fast.

I've been searching through thousands of unpublished photos - some of them quite good - and wondering why I haven't used them; why I haven't sent them to a magazine editor... fear of rejection; of not being perfect? I don't want to be someone who dies with her song unsung; with promise unfulfilled. It's odd that I cultivate imperfection (vintage and antiques, rubbed by the hands of time) in my home, but obsess about it in my work.

I've been despairing over hapless antics of politicians around the world, as suffering intensifies. Then experienced the weird disconnect of being focused on conflict in foreign lands, as decorating and photography books arrive in the mail. And while I'm thinking about senseless wars and the foibles of humanity, I'm posting a cheery photo of my Fiesta collection! But isn't this how we go on... compartmentalising things; refusing to dwell too long on sorrows that are difficult to bear; trying to prioritise demands on our time and snatching fleeting moments of joy whenever possible?

A sad message from a faraway friend - with whom I've been too busy to keep in touch - that her marriage is in trouble. A burly stranger climbing a ladder and suddenly appearing in the open doors of our balcony, seeking access to the house next door.  As I'm typing this, a window washer on a ladder (we're on the second and third floors) has appeared next to me, without warning. The last time that happened, I was in my friend Heidi's 8th-floor studio across the street from the New York Public Library.  I was seven months' pregnant and it gave me a fright, as a window-washer's silhouette appeared. Heidi opened the window and scolded him for scaring a pregnant woman.

Just now outside my Dutch window, five men and a child in Scottish kilts and a woman in a long dress are walking down the street playing bagpipes! Totally unexpected. And isn't that the way we live, never knowing what might happen next?

So this week's lessons and reminders for me? Stop procrastinating and create more opportunities to tell the stories of those who are struggling. Carpe diem!

The guest blogs

Di Mackey, visiting from Antwerp, writes:

"I'm not sure what to do guiltwise when staying with a hostess so gracious that the only job I am tasked with is drinking a glass of rather delicious red wine while she slaves over a hot stove, creating a lovely pasta dish that will accompany the light salad and crusty baguette dinner.

"As a New Zealander my exposure to things French had been limited before heading abroad. I have since learned that their wine is better than I had first realised, their food is often superior, both in terms of fresh produce used and preparation, that their bread is some of the best I have ever tasted and that I will never ever be fluent in this particular language.

"But I'm wandering ... something I do so very well sometimes. Ask Tara about conversation with Di. She has suffered quite some conversation already tonight.

"Anyway, I'm here at Tara's desk tonight, fighting a desire to pick up my camera in an attempt to capture something of the atmosphere I find here. Book titles that beg a reading, artworks that inspire and all kinds of bits and pieces that would bring out the artist in the least artistic among us.

"We have two more days to spend in this city she has come to call home. We've made such a lovely beginning that (guilt about being spoilt aside) I'm looking forward to seeing how things unfold."

Ed. note: I told Di she had to say nice things or she was buying dinner tomorrow!

Playing with toys

Early 20th-century children's toys, La Pedrera, Barcelona, Spain.

I have been outside playing in the sunshine: trying out a new Carl Zeiss wide-angle zoom lens, while taking photos of the Pyramid at the Louvre. I also stopped off at WH Smith to buy a copy of the last issue of Country Home magazine, which is folding after 31 years. Strange that their website hasn't been updated to reflect the sad reality.

Along the way, I passed legions of tourists and locals, out for a Saturday stroll. Rue de Rivoli was filled with nouveau riche Russians, with the women wearing their blonde hair in ponytails; too much makeup; their jeans and sweaters (with fur collars) skin-tight and high-heeled boots. Their companions typically had bad haircuts and ill-fitting clothes. At Angelina's, there was a line literally out the door of people waiting to sample their famous hot chocolate. As usual, Gucci-clad Japanese tourists were snapping away with their pocket-sized cameras or filming video in the Jardin des Tuileries.

My husband is in Brazil for a speaking engagement, so I have a few days all to myself. On Tuesday my friend Di Mackey is arriving from Antwerp. I expect we'll have a photo safari of sorts around Paris. Maybe I can persuade her to explain some of the fancy bells and whistles on my camera.

Thank you all for the kind comments and messages this week. Just today I had email entitled "Hello from the Hindu Kush" and "The cry of the Dead Sea." I realise I am lucky, lucky, lucky to have so many good friends scattered around the globe. I'm happy to report that after much angst, the family situation has been resolved, more or less. So I'm feeling more hopeful and light-hearted. Hope you're having a wonderful weekend, wherever you may be in the world!

P.S. Results from today's photo session soon.

Opening the door

Art Nouveau door, Antwerp, Belgium.

My friend Di and her clever husband Gert have done a wonderful thing for me. For eight years, I've had to go to London to buy laptops with English keyboards, as well as obscure computer or camera gear. Not anymore! Thanks to Di and Gert, I was alerted to Pixmania - which - wonder of wonders - delivers computers with English keyboards within France and Belgium!

My first purchase was a little blue netbook, which arrived today. Except for one puzzling quirk with the keyboard - resolved, after Gert suggested a simple solution - it's terrific! Petite and perfect for travel or gadding about town. Best of all, the keyboard is wide enough to type easily. Can you tell I'm already envisoning journeys, with the netbook stashed in my correspondent's bag?

Thank you, Di and Gert! If you haven't already, check out Di's website, Woman Wandering. Did I mention she's an extremely-talented photographer??!!

Prize drawing

At midnight Paris time, I'll draw names in the giveaway celebrating my three years of blogging. Check back Wednesday for news about the prize winners.

A celebration and a giveaway

Carved wooden courtyard doorway icon, 18th-century, Antwerp, Belgium.

In celebration of US President Barack Obama's inauguration, I am hosting a giveaway. Prizes are a copy of Art from the Heart by Catherine Matthews-Scanlon and a surprise from a French brocante. To enter, please leave a brief comment about what freedom means to you. I will draw the winning name from ma chapeau on Friday, Jan. 30th. Bon chance!

Scroll down the page for another post today.

Antiques in Antwerp

Last fall I was in Antwerp, Belgium visiting my friend, transplanted New Zealander-and-photographer Di Mackey. She kindly accompanied me to the "antiques row" of Antwerp. In one antiques store, I was thrilled to discover books in English with gorgeous Art Nouveau covers. They were part of the display, but I persuaded the owner to sell them - for five euros!

I was captivated by these two 19th-century iron, metal and leather dress forms (see second one on the table in the background). Considering that these are quite rare - and my daughter is a designer - how could I resist? The problem was getting them back to Paris. They're waiting in Di and her husband Gert's apartment to be picked up. Maybe after the snows melt?

Speaking of snow, this antique sled was among the interesting items on offer at this particular shop.

This huge early 20th-century pharmacy cabinet (which took up an entire wall) was once in a pharmacy school. The cabinet comes with a framed black-and-white photo of the graduating class.

Shall I tell you a secret? Antwerp is filled with beautiful antiques - for about a third less than the prices in Paris. If you're an Art Nouveau fan, you'll be in seventh heaven here. I'm planning a repeat visit to this charming city very soon. It's only two hours by train from Paris and well worth the visit for the architecture alone.