My beautiful daughter Jordana (left), with Andrea, her friend from college days, visiting us in the Netherlands. Today is Jordana's birthday and we've been celebrating. You'd never know it from the photo, but Andrea just arrived this morning, after a long flight from Los Angeles.
Never mind the foggy weather - at least it's not snowing!
Back to the birthday celebration! More images soon.
Early morning light on Thursday, photographed from the top floor of our house.
Thursday morning: snow covering the deck and most of the canal iced-over. Click images to view detail.
A layer of ice on the canal.
The view from the dining room window, Friday morning.
In the back garden: no footprints yet, just paw prints from the neighbour's cat.
Little Buddha, next to an outdoor light and turquoise stones.
Our snow-covered rowboat and deck. The Norwegian boat is made for manuevering fjords, although I doubt I could manage a rowboat through icy waters!
The horizon: still snowing on Friday, but ice in the canal has started to melt.
A Dutch train, with cars nearly empty of passengers.
Snow-laden mulberry branches.
A wreath of pinecones and berries next to our front door.
The weather forecast is for snow all weekend. Back soon with more wintery images. At the moment, I'm busy decorating our house for a dinner party Saturday. Bon weekend les tous!
P.S. Here's a short video that will warm your heart.
Simple abundance...
We are off to London. Wherever you may be, wishing you and yours a very Happy Thanksgiving!
Images (top) of village market in Nepal and (below) garden at a Himalayan monastery. Click photos to view detail.
What remains: Gossamer wings to the edges of dreams (skeletal hortensia in our garden). Click photos to view detail.
“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." - Anatole France
"All things must change to something new, to something strange." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"In this world of change, nothing which comes, stays and nothing which goes is lost." - Anne Sophie Swetchine
"The butterfly is a flying flower; the flower a tethered butterfly." - Ponce Denis Écouchard Lebrun
Reading:
Joshua Foer's Moonwalking with Einstein: The Art and Science of Remembering Everything
Anthology magazine
Watching:
Baking:
Lemon thyme loaf from Nigel Slater's The Kitchen Diaries II
Listening:
Emeli Sande: Read all about it
Admiring:
An animated short film for Christian Dior, featuring Marion Cotillard
Learning:
Dutch (At least it's a start)
On Election Day Tuesday, let's not turn back time. We can't afford to have corporations buying public office and favoring profit for the few over fairness for all. We can't tolerate a rapidly-widening gap between the haves and the have-nots. Our Constitution affirms that "all men are created equal."
Let's not return to the days when women were considered second-class citizens and men were always boss. Let's not return to the days when women had limited reproductive choices and men controlled the purse strings. Let's not fall back to the days where affordable health care, freedom of choice and civil rights were legislated by rich white men and the lobbyists who financed them.
Let's not go back to the days when multi-national corporations tried to stifle unions and undermine workers' rights. Let's never return to the Robber Baron days when arrogant rich men lived by one set of rules for themselves and another for everyone else. Let's dismiss the days when politicians carelessly eroded our environmental protections, while refusing to address the massive elephant-in-the-room: climate change. Let's not return to the days when bigotry and racism; poverty and limited access to education and opportunity encouraged resentment between us. We are a nation of immigrants: more alike than we are different.
Setbacks from fighting two foreign wars - and the subsequent drain of blood and treasure - have hindered our growth. Too-big-to-fail investment banks have manipulated the economy and derailed the mortgage industry. To prosper, we deserve better than the outdated, unworkable, unrealistic policies of corporate raider Mitt Romney and his obstructionist "Party of No." Every major economist in America - including Joseph Stiglitz and Paul Krugman - has attacked Romney's constantly-shifting positions on how to revive the economy. Romney offers only empty talking points and platitudes, but he is dangerously malleable.
Under Romney's stated tax plans, 7000 of his wealthy corporate friends would benefit, while 26 million children in 13 million working families suffer. After all, Romney has expressed his disdain for "the 47%." He's more interested in building additional ships for the Navy - who publicly have stressed that ships are not needed - to reap profits for John Lehman, one of Romney's main financial backers. And that's only one example of how Romney's well-heeled supporters expect to benefit at our expense.
Mitt Romney has spent the entire presidential campaign trying to hide under a cloak of secrecy. He has avoided press interviews; refused to release his tax returns; failed to offer any real solutions to stimulating the economy or creating jobs and repeatedly lied about Ohio auto worker jobs being sent to China. He's barely mentioned the present war in Afghanistan or our troops serving there, yet he's found time to threaten war with Iran. Romney's lack of diplomacy has offended even our closest allies, while his ignorance about foreign policy and cultural differences could spell dire consequences for the United States.
Romney also has promised to dismantle our country's universal health care system - initiated by President Obama and similar to the one Romney himself championed when governor of Massachusetts - and cut Medicare for seniors and Medicaid benefits for the poor. He's vowed to pull funding for Planned Parenthood's important women's health programs and abolish or undercut FEMA, forcing individual states in the midst of natural disasters such as Superstorm Sandy to rescue themselves!
On Tuesday, please cast your ballot for President Barack Obama, a thinking president who has the knowledge, ideas and empathy to address challenges facing all Americans, not just the privileged few. He advocates policies that unite us, not divide us; policies that celebrate the hope and promise and principles of equality on which our nation was founded. President Obama advocates action that will carry us forward as a stronger nation. United we stand.
Images of 1930s WPA-funded artist murals, Coit Tower, San Francisco by Tara Bradford.
"What art means to me" by Christina Rosalie.
Years ago along the blogging trail, I discovered Christina Rosalie's beautiful writing via her initial blog My Topography. Christina's honest and raw appraisals of the challenges of sustaining creativity - while juggling raising children, working and studying for a post-graduate degree - resonated with readers.
Christina's poetic turn-of-phrase in describing even the simplest events is elevating and inspiring. Compelling illustrations and photographs also are strong components woven through the tapestry of her work.
Christina has a rare gift for finding magic in ordinary moments. Her new book A Field Guide to Now: Notes on Mindfulness and Life in the Present Tense is a bold call to action. For all those too busy or distracted to notice creative instincts begging to emerge, A Field Guide to Now is for you. Christina's thoughtful essays and evocative illustrations help shine a light on how to celebrate passion and ideas and fulfill your promise.
"I want you to know that this is the way things almost always begin: innocuous and small; a note jotted down on a napkin; a phrase that circles in your head for days; a feeling you cannot ignore. This is when you must pay attention. This is when you must do whatever you can to begin."
In this post, Christina kindly shares some thoughts on her creative process:
"I was inspired to write A Field Guide To Now because I could feel how, in the midst of uncertainty, the only thing that was for sure was the moment at hand. I was also navigating life with a newborn and a four-year-old—and found myself amidst all the restlessness and repetitiveness and busyness that that entails, often just trying to live out the day to be done with it. The book began then as a question: what might happen if I showed up for my life with intention, arriving in the present tense with wholehearted wonder and attention and focus?
"It is my hope that this book is both an invitation for readers to do the same—and also proof, that this work of artful intention and mindful focus, beginning with the ordinary moment at hand, can be a springboard for creativity and grace.
Photo by Thea Coughlin.
"The best part of the process? Starting the book---and finishing it. Really. It felt rather epic to have an inkling of an idea—and to leap towards the unknown with it clutched to my heart like a parachute. I guess I expected that it would unfold and hold the weight of my dream, but I had never done anything so big before, so I wasn’t entirely sure.
"The truth is, I am someone who has always learned through doing—and in many ways I really did leap into the process of writing (and illustrating) this book without any idea what I was doing. It was helpful that my editor, Mary Noris, pushed for a proposal that became a roadmap for what I would write. Though the book evolved so much from what I originally proposed, as I found what I needed to say and my voice emerged from within the stories.
"I think the best thing about the process was that the answers emerged from the act of living the questions: from being in the moment, asking, observing, doing and taking note.
"The worst part? Finishing it. When the book was the inkling of a dream on Kickstarter, I didn’t have any idea that I’d be in graduate school when I would actually write it. But there I was, in the summer semester between my first and second year of an MFA program in Emerging Media, writing a book, while also learning to program Flash, edit videos and create digital stories, but there I was—with two young boys under foot as well.
"I couldn’t have done it without my husband, who is the most wonderful co-pilot. Every weekend and every spare hour was spent writing that summer and I was so utterly exhausted when I finished and shipped the manuscript off, that it didn’t set in for several months after that I’d actually gone and lived one of my biggest dreams and written a book."
Books in Christina's studio.
You can order your own copy of A Field Guide to Now here, here, here or here. It is published by Skirt!, an imprint of Globe Pequot Press.
The book's appealing combination of wonderful writing and original illustrations make it an uplifting read and indeed, an encouraging field guide to help bring your own dreams and purpose to the forefront.
Author photograph by Thea Coughlin. All other photographs except where indicated are by Christina Rosalie.
Christina Rosalie is a writer, mixed-media artist and creative consultant whose award winning work and been featured in print and online. Most recently she has written for Kinfolk, Milk and Ink and the Los Angeles Review. Her mixed media artwork has been included in shows at Burlington City Arts gallery and SEBA gallery. Christina has an MFA in Emergent Media from Champlain College and lives with her husband and sons at the end of a long dirt road in northern Vermont. You can find her online at christinarosalie.com where she writes about the art of living intentionally and the hilarity and wonder that results from the convergence of curiosity, creativity and life with little boys.
Happy Halloween from Holland, where pigs don't fly, but they do come in marzipan! Yes, apparently it's a Dutch tradition related to Sinterklass and signifying good luck. Local bakeries produce rather unusual pigs made of marzipan, complete with slices, resembling pork. Guess I must have looked skeptical when viewing the pig's head display. The baker laughingly assured me, "But it's very delicious marzipan!" Uh, no thanks (although I do like marzipan - and bacon!).
Wherever you are, hope you make the most of Halloween.
My thoughts are with all those adversely affected by Superstorm Sandy, who must now begin rebuilding/adapting to a different reality. Wishing you bon courage, as the French say.
Check back tomorrow for a special treat on the blog!
We can't afford to turn the clock back to failed Republican policies. The only direction is forward with President Obama. (Please take a moment to watch this short video).
More about the song "Forward" here. Photo of directional sign at Marken, Noord Holland, Oct. 26th, 2012.
Swans swimming along a canal in the little fishing village of Marken, Noord Holland.
A nod to Halloween.
Pumpkins placed at random.
A statue outside an hotel from the Art Nouveau era.
An alley leading to a walkway and canal.
Attack of the blue eyeshadow.
Well-worn-and-weather-beaten wooden clogs.
A family's clogs nailed to a house.
Birds on a wire handpainted inside a sturdy wooden storm door.
Goats in a verdant field between houses.
The hortensia-dominated backyard of a local residence, surrounded by lush green polders.
A private canal crossing.
Feeding the gulls, while waiting for a boat.
The "haven" or harbour.
A path along the sea and a boat named "Route 66."
Feeding sparrows.
A lone bench on a sea wall by the pier.
All photos taken Friday, Oct. 26th, 2012.
A tribute-to-jazz fountain in Dutch Alley, New Orleans.
Ed. note: This is a link-laden piece, for those readers who haven't been keeping up with the news. If you don't care to view the links within my article (below), please at least read this New Yorker piece about what President Barack Obama has managed to accomplish in the face of Republican obfuscation and how a Romney presidency would stimy our nation's growth and progress. I am disappointed about several actions/inactions of Obama's presidency, but the alternative is simply unthinkable.
We've come too far to go back 50 years, which is where the corporate-backed Romney-Ryan presidential ticket wants to send us. The GOP's relentless assaults on women's reproductive rights, on Planned Parenthood, on equal pay, on health care, on Medicare, on Social Security, on education and the environment simply cannot stand.
The widening economic gap between the richest one percent of Americans and the middle class and the poor is deeply unjust, more and more resembling the early 20th-century years when robber barons wielded disproportionate influence over government policies.
Health insurance as a right, not a privilege
Despite Mitt Romney's claims to the contrary, Americans do die in their apartment without insurance - about 45,000 people per year! In the richest country on earth, these unnecessary deaths are scandalous!
Going to the emergency room is not by any stretch of the imagination, preventive health care. Isn't it odd how the former Massachusetts governor boasts about getting health insurance for every citizen in his state, yet doesn't want the rest of the country to have such benefits??!!
"Obamacare," which is loosely modeled on the Massachusetts plan not only provides insurance options for all Americans, it provides coverage for pre-existing conditions.
Meanwhile, Planned Parenthood provides valuable services for women who cannot otherwise afford breast cancer screening, birth control advice, etc. But Mitt Romney said he will "defund" Planned Parenthood his first day in office.
Foreign policy affects us all
Mitt Romney's abysmal failure to grasp even the basics of foreign policy - he seems to think we're still living in the Cold War era, with Russia as our greatest threat - would lead only to more (futile and endless) wars, with tremendous costs of blood, treasure and our already-damaged reputation hanging in shreds on the world's stage. Romney's idea for resolving the Arab-Israeli conflict? "...we'll just kick that down the road," he told wealthy benefactors at a Florida fundraiser - the same event where he disparaged 47% of Americans.
Given his many inflammatory statements on Iran, Israel and Syria - and his Bush-era advisors who already got us into two wars - the idea of Romney as president provides considerable cause for concern. Romney's willingness to jettison measured and longstanding US foreign policy (Jerusalem, Egypt, Libya, etc.) to pacify his right-wing base is particularly worrying. And for Romney not to even mention our current war in Afghanistan in his convention speech - and later dismiss the criticism, saying he didn't think the war was "important" to talk about in the speech - suggests he would not be competent as commander-in-chief.
Further, Romney's bizarre habit of making strange and undiplomatic statements and remarks wherever he goes has managed to offend even our closest allies, including Great Britain! His testy behaviour when challenged at presidential debates indicates Romney doesn't have the level-headed temperament - much less the key qualifications - to serve as president.
Jobs and the economy
As for adding jobs to the economy, Romney has no specific plans, at least not any he's willing to share with voters. Respected economists (including Joseph Stiglitz and Paul Krugman) have dismissed Romney's vague jobs and tax proposals as unworkable. The math simply doesn't add up, no matter how many ways Romney or Ryan try to spin their magical-thinking claims.
Romney still refuses to release his tax returns, an unprecedented move for a US presidential candidate. Romney and his surrogates keep insulting our intelligence by repeating the same distortions and lies, over and over. Apparently they think voters are gullible enough to accept whatever they say at face value, without bothering to question the facts and think for themselves.
Voter suppression attempts
The Republican party also has to answer for blatant voter suppression attempts, which have sparked lawsuits and arrests. Civil liberties groups alarmed by the GOP's multiple voter suppression efforts and repeated voter harrassment have asked international observers to monitor the US election - a request usually made for Third World countries and banana republics. What does that say about our democracy? No longer quite the shining beacon of liberty and freedom, it would appear.
Apparently it's not enough that Romney's rich backers are trying to intimidate their employees to vote for Romney. In the same vein of widespread voter suppression efforts, Romney's son Tagg - using a Bain Capital subsidiary as an intermediary - has purchased 2012 voting machines in several states, including the key battleground state of Ohio! Shouldn't this be considered a conflict of interest - if not illegal - when his own father is running for president??!! Certainly, Romney family ownership of voting machines could open the door for questioning certain voting precinct results, as well as inviting potential lawsuits.
Voter protection: Your right to vote
Determine state-specific voter information here. If you face any problem when attempting to cast your ballot, please telephone Election Protection at 1-866-OUR-VOTE. Don't let misleading phone calls, erroneous billboards, careless clerical errors or noisy hecklers outside the polling station affect your right to vote!
P.S. And if you are a Romney supporter - other than rich, corporate banker types, obviously - can you give me one good reason why??!! I've asked my friends who say they're voting for him, but no one seems to have an answer (other than he's 'not Obama'). I believe President Obama deserves four more years!
Tree of clogs, Sunday, Oct. 7th, Marken, Noord Holland. This quaint little fishing peninsula is located in the area known as Waterland.
My apologies for not blogging much lately; simply juggling too many things at once. I have so much to say, yet no time to say it! Beginning this weekend I hope to kickstart this blog back into action. Thanks for staying the course!
An idyllic scene - fake cow and all. Click to enlarge and check out the gorgeous canal-side garden!
The charming courtyard of a painted wooden cottage for sale in Marken.
What else, but wheels of cheese?!
Echoes of summer.
It's my birthday and I feel a bit like the facade of this Green Tara Travels & Tours building in Kathmandu, Nepal... a flaw or two here; a bit of damage there... but still standing! And that certainly beats the alternative.
"...our obsession with youth in our culture and how we women lie about our age after 35... and no one wants to let anyone know they're getting older. " - Sela Ward
Thankfully, in Europe, age isn't as much of an issue/media obsession as it is in the United States. And I've found the older I get, the more outspoken I become. In case you haven't noticed in some of my political pieces, I don't suffer fools gladly!
I've also discovered that things I once fretted and worried over no longer seem quite so important...that I don't need so much stuff and it's okay to let go of beautiful, valuable antiques and designer handbags if I don't need them. I've decided it's fine to decline more invitations than I accept. Time is fleeting and setting priorities is essential. And some days, my priority may be a little peace and quiet in the sanctuary of home, rather than a cocktail party or glittering soiree - no matter what good friends may be there!
My work as a writer and photographer requires a healthy dose of introspection, but until recently, I've tended to think a little of that goes a long way. These days I'm embracing more time alone, away from the noise and distractions of other people's arcs of ideas and opinions.
"Every woman is a rebel." - Oscar Wilde
I've always been a bit of a rebel; if someone is doing one thing; I want to do the opposite. Trends rarely interest me; individuality and creativity trumps in almost every instance. So even though I'm getting older - and there are many goals still to accomplish - I'm proud that I continue to walk my own path. Long ago, I chose the road less traveled and it's been sometimes rocky, but always adventurous. I hope I don't reach the end of this eventful journey for many more years to come.
Bungamati, Nepal.
The last hortensias (hydrangeas) from our garden (in vintage French pharmacy bottles and a Dame Jean jug).
Fruits and herbs.
Chilies and dried spices in antique apothecary jars.
Hidden delights.
An antique post box.
Baker's vintage dough cutters from Paris.
Nambe candlesticks from Santa Fe (a gift from my daughter); a Dutch Arts & Crafts pewter candleholder and modern Moroccan-inspired votives on a Mexican silver tray from Sevilla, Spain.
Hope you enjoy these last days of summer!
P.S. It still amazes me that people who profess to be leaders can be so disingenuous. Our forefathers surely would be shocked by the distinct lack of truthfulness in current American election campaigns. We deserve better than men with no reality-based ideas or solutions of their own making vague, empty promises and platitudes.
Sixth-century Byzantine mosaics uncovered in the Church of the Virgin, Madaba, Jordan. Click photos to view detail.
The church was built on top of a Roman temple. Excavations that began in the 19th-century continue to reveal more delicate mosaics, preserved by the shifting sands of time.
Another passageway awaiting further excavation.
Part of the excavation site.
Another section of the church awaiting excavation.
Another Byzantine mosaic reclaimed from the rubble.
A mosaic being restored at the Madaba Institute for Mosaic Art and Restoration, located near the church. The institute teaches students how to repair, restore and create mosaics.
An artisan works on a jigsaw puzzle-like mosaic.
The church and the school are on the itinerary of our next Journey to Jordan November 7th-15th. A couple of spaces are available, should you be interested in joining us. Read more about the trip here.
As a child, I dreamed of a home with big bay windows with cushions, where I could read and gaze out the window. The reality of our canal house in the Netherlands is a bit different, but I can still recline on cushions, read and dream (and look out the glass door to the garden).
This little alcove/reading nook in our home features treasures collected while living and traveling abroad. The wool rug is handmade by women from the Bani Hamida Women's Weaving Project in Jordan. It took six months for several women working with the Jordan River Foundation to hand-embroider scenes from The Arabian Nights for the tapestry. Different sections were then hand-appliqued onto a raw silk background.
The charcoal linen daybed is from a Dutch department store. The pillows are a mix of modern and vintage. The vintage Moroccan wedding blanket is one of several I've collected through my friend Maryam's Red Thread Souk. The Moorish table at left is circa 1903 and the Syrian mother-of-pearl inlaid table is from 1905. Both were purchased from Liberty of London's 2011 Arts & Crafts Exhibition. The vintage 'winged" chair is from Barcelona. The antique wooden mosque model (next to the chair) is French.
At left are early 20th-century framed Lehnert & Landrock images taken in Tunisia and Egypt. The modern black and silver bowl is from Morocco, via Paris and is filled with antique silver bracelets and necklaces from the Middle East. The antique hand-embroidered Palestinian headress is on a vintage French hatstand. The alabaster bowl is from Cairo.
An English silver Arts & Crafts bowl holds five handmade wooden hearts and an antique Arabic seal.
The hand-carved and stone-studded seal from Jordan can be worn as a cocktail ring.
Years ago, I found this circa 1903 Liberty of London hand-painted vase on eBay! Its value has increased dramatically.
A jumble of Jordanian, Palestinian, Bedouin, Moroccan and Yemeni jewelry in a hand-painted and signed ceramic bowl.
A 200-year-old Bedouin silver and Italian coral necklace draped over a French wrought iron sculptor's model.
This traditional cross-stitched Palestinian woman's wedding hat is from the 19th-century. It is rimmed with heavy silver coins, most dating back to the Ottoman Empire. The hat's design includes lucky talismans, numbers and flowers. Such hats are increasingly rare; most are in museums. I was fortunate to purchase this one from an antiques dealer in Amman.
Click photos to view detail. Our house is very much a work-in-progress. More pictures soon.
Spider's web across the garden path in late-afternoon sunlight. Click images to view detail.
Photos © Tara Bradford
This week has been a bit like Christmas at our house. On Tuesday, our Isamu Noguchi coffee table arrived via Germany (despite the irreverant coffee table reference, have you seen this hilarious Tumblr site?). And today, our custom-made sofa was delivered - finally, we can put aside the stylish, yet uncomfortable Napoleon III cream linen-covered chairs! Soon they'll be off to an Amsterdam antiques shop, awaiting their next owner.
On a more sombre note, have you ever wondered where old computers and electronics go to die? Nyaba Leon Ouedrango's powerful photograph depicts the harsh consequences for Ghana.
If you're planning a visit to Amsterdam, you might find this tattoo museum intriguing.
As a night owl, I can identify with the lovely sentiment here.
My friend (and talented artist and writer) Christine Mason Miller suggested this gorgeous book and I'm so glad I bought it. The Divine Home is of a similar nature. I collect handmade Spanish crosses, Italian and French antique prayer ornaments and Madonna crowns. I find these heartfelt symbols of reverence and devotion not only beautiful, but somehow reassuring.
The secrets of the rich and unaccountable
Alas, I see nothing reassuring about Mitt Romney's presidential candidacy. If he has nothing to hide, why is he so secretive? Mitt and his advisors really should study geography and history, as they can't seem to grasp how the world map has changed.
Ann Romney is with her expensive horse at the Olympics in London, denying all photo and interview requests for "you people." But Romney claims to know little about their prize horse. Meanwhile, so much for Anglo-Saxon heritage and diplomacy: Romney made multiple gaffes, offending his hosts in Great Britain.
For someone running for the highest office in the land, Mitt Romney doesn't seem to know much about anything, i.e. how much money he has in offshore or Swiss bank accounts; how much income tax he has paid; how long he was CEO for Bain Capital. He appears to have a bare-bones minimum grasp of foreign policy. One has to wonder what Mr. Etch-A-Sketch believes about anything at all, with his adamant refusals to 1) reveal financial and tax records 2) declare any policies his administration would follow or 3) propose actual solutions to any problems currently facing the US.
Think Progress has compiled a remarkable list of 99 Facts about Mitt Romney. Would you really want such a crafty chameleon as president??!!
Olympic rings suspended between floors at Printemps, Paris. Photo © Tara Bradford
This week, a French friend privately expressed relief that the 2012 Olympics were awarded to London - rather than Paris - due to the enormous financial burden of hosting the games. In case you've been avoiding the news lately, the opening ceremony is Friday night.
And congratulations to Bradley Wiggins, who today became the first Brit to win the prestigious Tour de France!
Une rose rouge dans le jardin. Photo © Tara Bradford
"Truths and roses have thorns about them." - Henry David Thoreau
Back to Paris for another doctor's appointment, a few photos and maybe vin rouge and a rose or two. Bon weekend!
Click photos to view detail.
Hortensia beginning to bloom.
A different type of hortensia (hydrangeas).
This part resembles a cottage garden. It is a challenge keeping it from taking over...Over a period of many years, the previous owners filled practically every inch of space with plants. David and I are making a few changes.
Another type of hortensia.
Velvety red roses planted in the shadow of a palm.
Blooms next to the canal.
Lilies growing in the canal, alongside our deck.
Water lilies.
Les visiteurs.
Water lilies galore, their blooms closed in the twilight.
The neighbour's cat snoozing on a wall. All photos © Tara Bradford
In Paris, the bridge behind Notre Dame is now jammed with locks! It's often been covered with padlocks placed by les visiteurs, but I've never seen so many at once. The bridge is weighed down with locks of every description, meant to symbolise undying love and affection. Keys to the padlocks typically are tossed into the Seine; the bottom of the river must be covered with the tiny mementoes.
From time to time the City of Paris removes the locks, as they're considered a health and safety risk. But many, many pedestrians - struck by the romance of the gesture - add their own padlocks. And soon, the bridge's mesh siding is again bursting with declarations of love.
Some of the locks are quite elaborate, featuring engraved names or initials and tied with ribbons, handmade lanyerns or plastic ties. Other locks simply were liberated from suitcases and handbags. If you're strolling along and have the sudden urge to add your own lock, you might purchase one (at an inflated price) from two men standing on the bridge, their pockets bulging with padlocks. Whether or not they'll be allowed to continue their entreprenurial efforts is anybody's guess.
Even the emergency rescue sign - in case of an accident or fall into the River Seine - is obscured by the locks.
Across the bridge a young couple pauses to admire a photograph.
An accordion player/jazz singer at work, despite grey skies. Ah, Paris! Always a pleasure.
Related post: A lock on love
My poor neglected bicycle, leaning against a garden wall.
I'm surprised ivy isn't covering my bicycle! It's been months since I could ride, thanks to these crazy dizzy spells. Living in the Netherlands, surely it's the law or something that you must ride a bicycle.
Am off to Paris for more tests to help sort out the vertigo. It is hoped I'll soon be riding my bike! Meanwhile, at Red Room I've written a piece about lost letters that may interest you. À bientôt!
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!
Still blooming, more than two weeks after putting this lily stem in a Nambe vase.
Still aggravating:
Still waffling: health care as a right or a privilege?
Still trying to control elections in Florida
Still gifts to the world:
Still one of the most courageous men I've ever met
Still one of the world's best storytellers (with a new book!)
Still touching
Still speaking out for human rights
And still amusing; still entertaining; still innovative.
And P.S. Still rock stars!
On your bike, sister! (If only I weren't so dizzy). Photo taken earlier this month in Edam, the Netherlands.
This morning I had a long-awaited appointment with a neurologist about dizzy spells that have persisted for nearly two months. But I was turned away from the clinic, despite having proof of insurance, a Dutch identity/residency card and Dutch bank cards.
Why? In a year-and-a-half in the Netherlands, I've seen other specialists and had tests at a major hospital without any problems. But this neurology department was located at a small regional clinic, linked to a hospital in another city. Supposedly, as I wasn't registered at that hospital (having been referred directly to the neurologist by a doctor, rather than hospital staff), the clinic couldn't accept payment. And because they were unaccustomed to dealing with insurance other than Dutch, they failed to cope.
My third conversation on the subject was with an administrative assistant:
AA: "I showed the doctor your insurance information and he won't be able to see you today."
Me: "Why not? I have an appointment and we've driven all this way."
AA: "Well, you can make an appointment for next week."
Me: "I've already waited two weeks for this appointment."
AA: "You can come back next week."
Me: "Why? I'm here now and have an appointment confirmation letter from your office!"
AA: "Well, I asked the doctor, who said it's too big of a risk."
Me, incredulous: "That's ridiculous! So the neurologist is saying a minor administrative issue is more important than my health?"
AA, nodding: "I know, but I can make an appointment for you next week."
Me: "No, thank you. I'll see another doctor, who's actually concerned about health."
And I walked away - and phoned a doctor in Paris and booked an appointment.
We love living in the Netherlands. Mais oui, we miss the food and the world's best medical care in France.
And Dr. A.J. Prazsky, neurologist, I hope never to meet you, since you're apparently more concerned about bureaucracy than a patient's health!
A small dog running down sand-covered steps at Egmond aan Zee as I was walking up... Click photo to view detail.
Ah, running - Can't do that or ride my bicycle, as I'm still experiencing room-spinning dizzy spells that began April 27th. Later this week I'm seeing a neurologist, who hopefully can determine the cause.
Speaking of running, have you read Haruki Murakami's What I Talk about When I Talk about Running? I've previously blogged about it and it remains one of my favourite books. Murakami compares being a long-distance runner to writing a novel.
These days walking is more my style. I'm currently reading John Baxter's The Most Beautiful Walk in the World: A Pedestrian in Paris. As an Australian and long-time Paris resident, Baxter gets it right: interspersing vignettes of daily life in Paris with the city's rich history. His storytelling abilities imbue a route I may have taken 500 times with a fresh energy.
Baxter's book makes me want to get on the next train and retrace some familiar paths and revisit certain eateries, seeking details and perspective I may have overlooked. If you love Paris and its unique diversity, I think you'll be charmed by Baxter's amusing and informative stories.
Footprints along the beach, Egmond aan Zee.
Trompe l'oeil: Layer upon layer to comtemplate appear in this photograph of a jeweler's vitrine in Delft. The window's glass reflects the buildings and various activities in the historic market square, while the sunburst mirror shows yet another view of Delft. Click photograph to view detail.
Notice the Harlequin masked figure, the lovely jewelry, the ubiquitous bicycle and the 17th-century architecture. Do you see the people enjoying the sunshine at an outdoor cafe; the tourist in the red jacket, the floating stars, the double-exposure windows and the bright forsythia? What stories come to life for you in this scene?
Read my dear friend Di Overton's fascinating forays into her Ghost Furniture design with trompe l'oeil here.
An orange yarn-wrapped bicycle and knitted flowers in a Delft shop window.
Tonight as Holland meets Germany in an European Cup match, the Dutch passion for football has reached fever pitch. Orange banners, streamers and balloons are festooning many homes, businesses and cars and random horns are sounding in support. Go Orange! Hup Holland hup!
Update: Clearly it wasn't the Dutch team's day.
Party barge, Egmond aan Zee, the Netherlands. Click photo to view detail.
My dear friend from college left Wednesday, after spending two weeks here. And David and I would have been happy if she decided to stay even longer, because she was the best guest ever! The secret? We gave each other space and she didn't expect to be entertained/doted upon 24/7. She was extremely thoughtful and respectful of our time. Plus she happens to be an intelligent, interesting woman, who's very engaging and curious about her surroundings.
One of the things we talked about is key attributes both for being a gracious host and a good house guest. Both of us grew up in the South, where manners are important. I told her about the tongue-in-cheek article Weekends only I'd written, after a particularly difficult guest came to stay.
The thing about being an expat living in Europe is that you have a never-ending stream of visitors. Over the years we have had many many guests, who were an absolute pleasure to host. But after a few unpleasant experiences with clueless individuals who took advantage of us - including those indicated below - we grew weary of acting as an unpaid bed-and-breakfast and started saying "No!" to other than the occasional good friends, experienced travelers or family.
Over-staying your welcome
In Paris, I lost count of how many guests came to stay, not all of them welcome. Two days after I'd returned from Nepal, a long-time friend arrived, supposedly for three days. She announced she had no money or credit cards, then changed her flight to stay even longer! She planned to take a train to Strasbourg to see a man who was playing mind games with her. But she didn't believe me when I said she needed advance reservations for a Thalys train; insisting she could just hop on any train at any time. And the man-in-question kept toying with her and ignoring her messages. So she stayed with us for eight days, obsessively dithering over the not-worth-her-time loser. Consequently, we had no choice but to finance her stay.
I practically had to force her to leave by phoning a taxi to take her to the airport, as later that day David and I were going by train to Amsterdam. My friend later sent a series of emails and tweets from Jerusalem, suggesting I was the "hostess from hell" and berating me for not letting her remain in our apartment while we traveled.
A woman I knew casually (we'd never even had lunch together) via my office in San Francisco came to see us in London, en route to France. She'd purportedly lined up odd jobs in various towns and planned to work her way to Italy. She asked if she could leave luggage containing camping equipment behind, saying she'd send for it shortly. After a few days, she abandoned her plans and returned to the US. And we had to move the bag with us to Paris. It stayed in our cave (wine cellar) for three years, before I insisted she retrieve it. In the interim she came to Paris twice and failed to contact us.
An American lawyer from my Spanish course in Seville showed up - ostensibly for three days while she spent time with a French guy from our class - only to cancel her planned trip to Ireland and stay an entire week. Oddly, she met the French guy only once for tea. Guess any notion of romance proved a figment of her imagination. She then had dinner with us every night. When we took her to an elegant restaurant, she didn't offer even to pay for the wine. Basically she had an eight-day holiday in Paris at our expense!
If you never want to be invited back, these schemes are foolproof:
Have your hosts make dinner reservations for a Saturday night (essential in a city like Paris). Your hosts will get dressed up to go out, but you don't turn up in time to make the reservation. This forces the hosts to cancel reservations, rush to the supermarket 30 minutes before it closes and cook dinner. But you're on holiday, so everyone else can accommodate your changing whims.
Come to an elegantly-set table in your bare feet, even though your hosts are dressed for the occasion.
Start eating before everyone at the table has been served.
Ask if you should tell an off-colour story at dinner and when told no, do it anyway, (leaving everyone with unpleasant images lingering in their minds).
Drink too much, talk loudly and constantly ask for your glass to be refilled. You're on vacation, so it doesn't matter how much you drink!
Dip your French baguette in your wine glass (!) and drop wine on the vintage linen tablecloth, creating huge stains. No doubt your hosts will laugh all the way to the drycleaner!
Ask for seconds of the main course, then, after the cheese course and dessert, ask if there's more food.
Cut the rinds off your cheese and arrange them on the cheese tray, rather than on your own plate. So creative!
Offer to help with the dishes, then bring two plates to the kitchen and leave the others for the hostess to clear and wash and dry by hand. She loves waiting on you!
Try to converse with the hostess when she is washing dishes, etc. At this point, chances are she has nothing polite to say to you.
Shout from one room to the next and expect your hostess to 1) hear you and 2) respond, while she is hand-washing and drying crystal glasses.
After a long, hot day walking around the city, take your shoes and stinky socks off and leave them under the coffee table. Put your dirty feet on a French linen-covered chair that's 170 years old. Another visit to the drycleaner or possibly the upholsterer?
Eat greasy potato chips while sitting in the same antique chair (see above).
Set your steaming mug of coffee on the 1940s glass coffee table, ignoring the coasters there for that purpose.
After you have had your shower, hog the bathroom putting on makeup, while others wait their turn. Ignore the perfectly nice mirrors in your room.
Arrive with four suitcases for a six-day stay, but forget an important prescription medication. Wring your hands with worry, but refuse to see a local doctor. You seem so anxious that your hostess asks a French pharmacist if they have a mood-stabilizer like the one you were prescribed in the US. In French, she begs the pharmacist to give you the drug; otherwise she'll be obliged to book you into a hotel.
Expect your hosts to drive you to and from the airport and to various towns and tourist attractions - places they wouldn't be going if not for you - but don't offer to purchase petrol.
Insist you're getting up early to run, then go back to sleep after the wake-up knock on your door. Expect your hosts to change their plans to accommodate your revised schedule. It's all good!
Leave your bed unmade and messy, wet towels on the floor and the door open while you're away during the day.
Leave the lights on in every room you depart; European electricity is very expensive, but your hosts are paying, so no worries.
Constantly mutter to yourself as you move around the apartment. Fun!
Spend time on your hosts' computers writing email, but repeatedly complain about the unfamiliar keyboard.
Don't bother to close the door behind you when entering or departing the apartment! That's what a burglar alarm is for, right?
When your hostess escorts you down the metro stairs to buy tickets and show you which train to take, don't offer to carry her heavy cart filled with groceries up or down the stairs. And especially don't offer to reimburse her for the tickets she just purchased for you!
When your hosts are meeting you at the airport and ask you to wait at a specific spot, don't stay there! Wander around while your hosts spend 45 minutes trying to find you (even better if you don't have a phone).
When your hosts ask you NOT to mail a package to them, ignore them! Never mind that they'll have to pay 19 percent tax upon arrival of your belated "hostess gift." (Either bring a hostess gift with you or not. Despite your good intentions, if you must send something after the fact, make it flowers, which won't require paying tax upon arrival).
When your hosts suggest you make event reservations in advance of your trip, pay no attention. Your hosts will be thrilled to help you book last-minute tickets online, while you fret about event times and miniscule price differences of said tickets.
Talk incessantly and/or constantly boast about yourself. After all, could there be a more fascinating topic of conversation??!!
Repeat the same story over and over and expect your hosts to laugh every time.
Take one of your host's stories and over the course of a few days, repeatedly attempt to make a feeble joke about it, even though the story has nothing to do with you.
Talk "at" the chef and distract him while he is preparing dinner, even when it's clear he'd prefer to be left alone while juggling tricky timing of various dishes.
Interfere with your hosts' personal belongings. Make yourself at home! Because it's the last time you'll be invited.
Have you had some unusual experiences with guests in your home? Do tell!
Reflections of the Dutch town of Edam in gazing balls atop an iron fence. Click photos to view detail.
These balls are updated versions of gazing balls popular in the 19th-century.
I'm busy entertaining a friend from college days. Back soon with a post about our first water lilies of the season. Wherever you are today, hope you're enjoying your weekend!
Tough boys: Looking at the faces and physical characteristics of these little boys in Ghor, Jordan, one can almost envision how they'll age. Life expectancy for males in developing countries is now more than double statistics just 30 years ago (when too many men died young, due to war or socio-economic conditions limiting access to medical care). In Jordan, life expectancy for men is among the highest in the Middle East, according to UN and World Bank statistics.
Click photo to enlarge.
Boats viewed from a small bridge in Edam, Noord-Holland.
The small bridge...
...with a tall arch.
Another bridge over the same canal.
Bicycles everywhere....
Edam cheese and bottles of wine. All that's missing is the bread!
Living over the shop.
Rustic charm.
A permanent letter box.
A photograph of Volendam's origins as a fishing village on the side of one of the houses in the picture.
A plaque indicating the house was built in 1935 and the family's work involved horses and sheep.
Reflections in a shop window in Volendam. The girl in the striped shirt reminds me of my fearless friend Gillian.
This week I am re-opening my etsy shop to sell many French antique and vintage treasures from my personal collection. Check back soon for the launch and link.
An outdoor display at a store in Delft, Zuid-Holland.
At long last it's Friday! And here are some fun links found while browsing blogs and media:
Marrakesh by Design and a tiny little film
A short film featuring Dior at Versailles
Est magazine's first birthday issue
A Frenchwoman attempts to understand Brooklyn hipsters
Bon weekend, les tous!
Reflections in one of the historic city of Delft's canals. I shot these pictures strolling around the city centre, while our guests visited an exhibition at Vermeer Centrum.
An Italian Fornasetti plate is artfully framed in a private home's window.
Trees reflected in a canal.
Delft blue ceramic messages embedded in the sidewalk.
An original apotheek (apothecary) sign from 1759 opposite the tower of Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) in the city's famed market square.
Antique and vintage Delft porcelain in a store vitrine.
Art Nouveau architecture at a Leonidas chocolate shop.
Chinese herbs.
A stack of wooden crates in a bar window.
A patiently-waiting father staring out the window in a children's store.
A mercantile selling molds, fabric, yarn and sewing notions.
A mannequin wearing 1970s thrift-store fashion and vintage scarves tied to a chair.
Miniature windmills at Kinderdijk, Zuid-Holland.
Fresh fruit and vegetables in Delft.
An arrangement of antique glassware on a windowsill in Edam.
It's the merry month of May - hooray! - and I'll be back shortly with more photos and posts.
Meanwhile, if you live in one of the cities in Maryam's book tour - now underway in the US - don't miss a chance to meet her! Maryam is as charming and clever in real life as one might expect from reading her lovely blog My Marrakesh. Feast your eyes on her stylish book Marrakesh by Design, availble from various booksellers.
It has been an eventful Queen's Day for us and our guests from Michigan, beginning early this morning in Amsterdam and continuing in the little fishing port of Volendam and then the charming village of Edam, famed for its cheese. These lads posing for pictures wore touches of orange in tribute to the Dutch royal family, the House of Orange.
A shop window filled with Queen's Day kitsch.
A giant paper flower.
Rather quiet street scenes in Edam at day's end.
Edam's Town Hall, built in 1737.
Dutch flags were flying all over the Netherlands.
Boats in Edam.
Boats in Volendam.
Back soon with more photos; for now, hostess duties await.
A swan coming around a bend in the canal...
...and gliding away, après un petit déjeuner chez moi.
An unexpected discovery in our garden. (As always, click photos to view detail).
A profusion of pink lilies...
...and pale pink and white blossoms against a backdrop of a weeping willow on the opposite bank of the canal.
A moment of calm (with the boat still on the deck, awaiting warmer temperatures).
Unusual purple and blue hortensia (hydrangeas), a gift from dinner guests last weekend.
Hope you're having a lovely Sunday, whatever the weather!
P.S. Have you read Frank Rich's alarming piece the Sugar Daddies, the old, conservative white guys who are trying to buy the American election??!!
In a remote area in Bani Hamida Mountain in Jordan, this woman was making yogurt in front of her house. She beckoned us over to watch, as she shaped the yogurt into balls. The yogurt is then be left to dry in the sun. Later, bits are broken off and used in meals - particularly in mansaf, Jordan's much-loved national dish.
I once was with a Jordan Television crew at an army outpost in the desert. Lunch - in my honour, as the only female present - was a giant platter of mansaf. Everyone dug in, using their hands. Thankfully, an army officer handed me a spoon.
Something about these pictures (above and below) reminds me of Johannes Vermeer's painting The Milkmaid.
If you visit Jordan, be sure to try mansaf for at least one meal!
This swan appears serene while gliding on the canal...
...but when the swan turns up at my deck wanting food, he angrily hisses if he doesn't get his way. The Mallards follow at a safe distance, hoping for leftovers.
These creatures remind me of certain American politicians: on the surface, they try to portray a kindly countenace, denying a "war on women." But behind the scenes, they engage in concerted efforts to dismantle 60 years of hard-fought reproductive rights. This week the Republican National Committee chairman laughingly dismissed such talk as "like a war on caterpillars."
Yet actions speak louder than words. In the past year alone, legislators in 39 states have introduced nearly 500 bills to strip, suppress or deny women's long-established reproductive rights and erode basic civil liberties. Read more here about conservative lawmakers' numerous brazen attempts to defund women's healthcare and undermine equality in the workplace.
Bizarrely, conservative male Republicans seem determined to unravel women's reproductive choices and workplace rights, while decrying government intervention into people's lives!
When I noticed the house on the Dutch realtor's website, a dirty white brick wall screamed out at me. My initial reaction was to find out if the wall could come down. When I saw the house in person, that idea was reinforced; the wall was horrid and dated. But we bought the house and there were so many cosmetic improvements needed, (thankfully, the house is structurally sound) the building work involved in knocking down the wall seemed like a tedious process, not to mention an unnecessary expense. And after moving twice in one year, we really didn't want to spend weeks living amidst construction chaos.
So rather than knock down the wall or try to mask it with art, I decided to make it a feature. I chose a teal blue inspired by the Rijksmuseum (much to the dismay of the painter, who clearly thought I was mad). The teal matches the William Morris Strawberry Thief fabric in the Arts & Crafts chair. I hung the circa 1830 French gilt mercury glass mirror and pushed the Napoleon III glass-fronted bookcase (bought from the grandson of a professor, who had it in his office at the Sorbonne) against the wall. Then I put the 1930s table in front of the mirror and topped it with glass scientific specimen globes to reflect more light. The arrangement of antique globes containing various curiosities are a winking nod to Miss Havisham's table in the latest BBC production of Great Expectations. A Napoleon III "bamboo" stool and a matching stand (holding an antique Buddha head) complete the grouping.
The rest of the room is a mixture of modern design and influences from the Middle East and Andalucia, Spain. It's an eclectic combination, which seems to work.
In case you didn't notice, the perfectionist in me is compelled to point out a pair of eyeglasses on the table that should not have been in the photograph. But in my bid to quell these annoying perfectionist tendencies, I am posting this photo, rather than take a more "perfect" one.
The ceiling is painted a pale blush pink, which helps "warm" the space in the winter. The pendant lights (of which there are six) are from Italy. The wool rug is handmade by the Bani Hamida Women's Weaving Project in Jordan. I'm looking for a different rug for this spot; ultimately the Bani Hamida rug will move either to my office or the guest room.
Stay tuned for more house "makeover" photos... Bon weekend!
