Paris Parfait

Of puppets and gnomes

A vintage birdcage and garden furniture are on display at the brocante and ham fair currently underway at Ile de la Chatou, near Paris.

Vintage handmade puppets.

The rather maniacal puppet at left reminds me of the shameful Republican antics currently threatening a government shutdown. The Party of No seems determined that millions of uninsured Americans won't gain access to affordable healthcare. Having failed 43 times to eviscerate the Affordable Care Act, the divided party's ignorant and extremist faction is holding the government hostage - in defiance of the president, reason and simple human decency. If we "follow the money," it would appear the GOP's corporate puppet masters are worried about falling profit margins - once reasonably-priced health insurance becomes accessible to all Americans. (Who's the puppet? Who's the master? Racing headlong towards disaster.)

Onwards to a more pleasant topic: traditional French garden gnomes and an assortment of porcelain and enamelware cafe au lait bowls and other kitchenalia.

Elegant zinc weathervanes that once topped grand chateaus. I have two similar ones (and an urn-shaped zinc beauty was transformed into a lamp).

The brocante continues daily from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. at Chatou. Get your tickets at the gate. And don't forget to try Chatou's famous ham for lunch (and you can take ham and other regional favourites home with you). Stop by to say hello to my friend Blandine Bavoux at 8 rue de la Gaite. Her booth is bursting with fantastic kitchen collectibles. But if you can't get to Chatou in person, you can shop online at Blandine's Jolietrouvaille.

Take the train (ReR1 - direction Saint-Germain-en-Laye) to Chatou Croissy or Rueil Malmaison. Then follow the signs a few blocks to Ile de la Chatou. Bring cash and don't buy anything you can't carry - or arrange to be delivered to you in Paris. Most taxis at the train station won't take passengers to Paris - and if they do, it's an expensive ride! Best to take the train or arrange a car hire for the day. Hope you enjoy browsing one of France's best - and oldest - brocantes!

Grey heron encore

A grey heron perches atop a 50-foot willow on the opposite bank of the canal.

I was standing on the first-floor balcony outside my office with an unsatisfactory 300mm lens. Click photos to view detail.

The heron begins to groom, after its earlier meal of fish from the canal.

Looks a bit like a feathered chapeau on a stand, doesn't it?

The heron stands on one leg, while scratching its face.

More grooming.

Surveying the environs.

Taking flight.

My fave brocante

If you're in Paris, don't miss the famous bi-annual brocante and ham fair, now underway at Chatou! The 87th Foire Nationale Antiquites, Brocante et Produits du Terroir promises to be just as packed with collectible treasures as the previous ones. With 800 stalls, a variety of antiques and collectibles to suit every style and taste are on offer. Among the delights available: mercantile cabinets, vintage spools of thread, embroidery skeins, unusual buttons and antique baskets.

A mercantile display case, featuring silk and satin ribbons.

These children's hangers featuring fairy tale characters add a touch of whimsy to any room.

Hand-carved wooden shoe lasts on a vintage ladder.

Don't forget to visit my friend Blandine Bavoux at 8 rue de la Gaite. Her booth is bursting with fantastic kitchen collectibles, particularly enamelware (see two photos below). But if you can't get to Chatou, you can shop online at Blandine's Jolietrouvaille.

From Paris, take the ReR A1 train (direction Saint-Germain-en-Laye) to Chatou Croissy or Rueil Malmaison. At the station, exit and follow the signs to Ile de la Chatou, just a short walk away. Tickets are available at the gate. Bring cash, as most dealers won't accept credit cards except for large purchases. The brocante continues daily from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. through October 6th.

I'm hoping to take the train to Chatou next week! See you there?

The illusion of sight

Tree orchard, Chawton, England.


"...Such are the perplexities of the ways of man and woman in a world where the past and future do not speak and where the present has not fully revealed itself to our partial-seeing eyes. And thus we live our days between knowing and unknowing: blind and deaf in a vast panorama of revelations, a perpetual theatre of timeless events, where history is as much the future as the past; an infinite living book in which all things are present. We live in these wonders and do not see." - Ben Okri, Starbook

More than just pictures...

A maintenance building at Schermerhorn, the Netherlands, with one of a group of windmills visible across a polder.


This windmill is part of a vast Schermer complex that originally included 52 water mills. In 1928 - after 300 years of wind drainage - the area converted to electrical drainage. Today two pumping stations keep water at bay.

What do these pictures have in common? All three involve water management of Noord-Holland, which is below sea level.

These trees are among dozens that have been removed this week, as their roots began to push through soil and shatter the pavement. The trees were planted 30 years ago on property next to a canal (therefore, reclaimed land). The roots failed to take hold beneath the trees; instead, they spread out and up, damaging the street. The residents were greatly dismayed about losing the trees, but harsh reality trumped aesthetics.

A disgruntled reader

On Tuesday I received email from a reader in California. An excerpt: "...I came across your blog a while back and enjoyed your photography. However, I would like to unsubscribe from your list because I really wanted to enjoy the photography, and not your frustrated rants about copyright problems..."

My response:"...Life is messy and isn't always beautiful. I'm sorry to disappoint you by writing about the realities of life. My aim is to educate people about copyright law, so that they stop and think before grabbing other people's work and undermining creative artists' ability to earn a living. I also won't remain silent about important issues that affect us all.

"Thanks for the kind words about my photography. But if you want only pretty pictures, you definitely should look elsewhere..."

In other news

This NRA lobbyist killing an elephant for sport is cruel, arrogant and stupid - and NBC Sports is airing the program! Elephants are endangered in many parts of the world, partly due to poachers targeting them for their ivory tusks.

Meanwhile, Republicans waste time in ridiculous, self-serving publicity stunts, while real problems need addressing.

But you don't have to agree with me! Think for yourself (no sheep allowed).

Photo of an inquisitive sheep at the historic St. Mary's Church, Froxfield Green, England.

Seeking solace

Vintage French "Lumière" camera and a Dorothea Lange Depression-era photograph in my office.

I've spent an incredibly frustrating day dealing with blatant photo theft by rogue companies defying copyright law. I would wager that probably two-thirds of photos appearing online have been stolen and/or used without permission or credit. In one Google Image search, I found more than 90 examples of a copyrighted photo misappropriated. In not one instance was the original source (me) identified or linked!

Too many companies and individuals alike wrongly consider they can take whatever they want, with little or no consequences. I would never dream of swiping someone else's creations for my own use. And I won't allow others to get away with stealing my work.

Between such worries and the heartbreaking tragedy still unfolding in Kenya, I've caught myself frowning most of the day. Even this lively fall bouquet of flowers, thistles and seeds has failed to lift my spirits.

Time to lighten the mood!

Wishing you a week of more sunshine than rain; more laughter than tears.

Song of sorrow

Ancient tree, The Citadel, Amman, Jordan.


Kofi Awoonor, professor, poet, author and diplomat was killed Saturday in a terrorist attack in Nairobi, Kenya. This is an excerpt of his powerful poem "This Earth, My Brother:"

 

"The dawn crack of sounds known

rending our air

shattering our temples, toppling

raising earthwards our cathedrals of hope,

in demand of lives offered on those altars

for the cleansing that was done long ago.

Within the airwaves we carry

our hutted entrails and we pray;

shrieks abandoned by lonely roadsides

as the gunmen’s boots tramp.

I lift up the chalice of hyssop and tears

to touch the lips of the thirsty

sky-wailing in a million spires

of hate and death; we pray

bearing the single hope to shine

burnishing in the destiny of my race

that glinting sword of salvation.

 

"In time my orchestra plays my music

from potted herbs of anemone and nim

pour upon the festering wounds of my race,

to wash forever my absorbent radiance

as we search our granary for new corn.

There was that miracle we hoped for

that salvation we longed for

for which we said many prayers

offered many offerings.

 

"In the seasons of burning feet

of bad harvest and disastrous marriages

there burns upon the glint edge of that sword

the replica of the paschal knife.

The sounds rounded our lonely skies

among the nims the dancers gather their cloths,

stretching their new-shorn hides off offered cows

to build themselves new drums.

Sky-wailing from afar, the distant tramp

of those feet in rhythm

miming underneath them violence..."

 

"...stretching their hands to the crowd

in wasteful gestures of identity

Boos and shrieks greeted them

as they smiled and waved

as those on a big boat journey.

A sudden silence fell

as the crowd pushed and yelled

into the bright sharp morning of a shooting.

 

"...and my mountains reel and roll

to the world’s end."

 

*This post's title is a reference to Kofi Awoonor's poem Song of Sorrow.

Delft delights

As summer gives way to fall, canal houses in Delft, Zuid-Holland are reflected in a mercantile's retro window.

This vitrine features rolls of linen and an antique miniature wooden armoire containing doll-sized antique linens and lace.

Vintage Delftware at a canal-side brocante.

Late afternoon on the edge of the city's Market Square.

An early evening stroll along a side street.

Jonathan Franzen: How the Internet affects publishing

A portion of a bookshelf in my home office. The Art Nouveau tin contains antique glass negatives and vintage film canisters.


Writing in The Guardian, American author Jonathan Franzen makes salient points about the Internet and the state of book publishing today. Read the entire article here.

An excerpt (paragraph division and reference links are mine):

"In my own little corner of the world, which is to say American fiction, Jeff Bezos of Amazon may not be the antichrist, but he surely looks like one of the four horsemen. Amazon wants a world in which books are either self-published or published by Amazon itself, with readers dependent on Amazon reviews in choosing books and with authors responsible for their own promotion. The work of yakkers and tweeters and braggers and of people with the money to pay somebody to churn out hundreds of five-star reviews for them, will flourish in that world.

"But what happens to the people who became writers because yakking and tweeting and bragging felt to them like intolerably shallow forms of social engagement? What happens to the people who want to communicate in depth, individual to individual, in the quiet and permanence of the printed word and who were shaped by their love of writers who wrote when publication still assured some kind of quality control and literary reputations were more than a matter of self-promotional decibel levels?

"As fewer and fewer readers are able to find their way, amid all the noise and disappointing books and phony reviews, to the work produced by the new generation of this kind of writer, Amazon is well on its way to making writers into the kind of prospectless workers whom its contractors employ in its warehouses, labouring harder for less and less, with no job security, because the warehouses are situated in places where they're the only business hiring. And the more of the population that lives like those workers, the greater the downward pressure on book prices and the greater the squeeze on conventional booksellers, because when you're not making much money you want your entertainment for free and when your life is hard you want instant gratification ("Overnight free shipping!").

Endangered species

"But so the physical book goes on the endangered species list, so responsible book reviewers go extinct, so independent bookstores disappear, so literary novelists are conscripted into Jennifer Weiner-ish self-promotion, so the Big Six publishers get killed and devoured by Amazon: this looks like an apocalypse only if most of your friends are writers, editors or booksellers.

"Plus it's possible that the story isn't over. Maybe the internet experiment in consumer reviewing will result in such flagrant corruption (already one-third of all online product reviews are said to be bogus) that people will clamour for the return of professional reviewers. Maybe an economically-significant number of readers will come to recognise the human and cultural costs of Amazonian hegemony and go back to local bookstores or at least to barnesandnoble.com, which offers the same books and a superior e-reader and whose owners have progressive politics. Maybe people will get as sick of Twitter as they once got sick of cigarettes. Twitter's and Facebook's latest models for making money still seem to me like one part pyramid scheme, one part wishful thinking and one part repugnant panoptical surveillance..."

Generations

In Bhaktapur, Nepal I met a grandmother and her granddaughter, who were sitting next to construction materials at a building site. They kindly posed for the camera. Click photos to view detail.

The little girl - probably around 18 months old - has kohl smudged around her eyes, a tradition believed to help ward off evil spirits.

This elegant grandmother wears striking gold earrings. I wish I'd had an interpreter to be able to talk with her. Maybe on the next trip!

Unforgettable.

Carved stone angel, Saint-Saulve Abbey, Montreuil-sur-Mer, France.

 

Bright shining angels

long after your departure

memories linger.

Sunshine substitute

Sunflowers and yellow roses.


Today, David and I were planning an expedition to the "mini-Camargue" (Oostvaardersplassen nature preserve, north of Amsterdam) to photograph wild horses. Alas, pouring rain scuppered those plans; instead we went to Edam for wine and cheese.

This morning a bright bouquet of mini sunflowers and yellow roses arrived from my daughter in the US. And David brought me long-stemmed white roses, among other welcome gifts. Despite now being older than I'd like to admit, it's been a special day. And it's not finished yet - dinner awaits!

I share this birthday with my late grandfather Monette, who "spoiled me rotten," as we say in the South. I think of him often. Many thanks to family and friends for the lovely birthday messages!

Adios, Etsy!

A closed shop, British Railways steam train station. Click photo to view detail.

 

Dear Etsy,

It's over. By the time you read this, I've already gone. I've closed my Etsy shop. And you have lost your way.

One late August night - without any warning - you ripped out the heart of your feedback system. In one fell swoop, you alienated thousands of sellers and buyers alike with arbitrary and ill-considered changes. You wiped out all the years and years of thoughtful exchanges between buyer and seller; the digital trail of transactions made and relationships formed.

Not only did you remove all feedback from transactions (prior to a year ago), you eliminated sellers' rights to leave feedback for buyers. And you've created a "review" system so illogical, it actively discourages buyers from leaving feedback.

You've replaced feedback choices of "positive, neutral or negative" with five "industry standard" stars (that in their bright yellow hue, echo a dark period in history). You've asked buyers to rate the number of stars that best reflect their shopping experience. You've also prompted them to write "at least five words" about each purchase. In a really odd move, you've made buyers' names public, providing contact information for potential spammers or advertisers!

Privacy issues aside, buyers can't "review" the item the day the parcel arrives - that would be too easy! Instead, you've forced buyers to mark their calendars for up to three weeks later - a date apparently based on a random shipping estimate - to return to Etsy and leave feedback. Meanwhile, you plan to email/spam buyers with helpful "reminders" to leave a "review." Are you deliberately trying to annoy your customers, Etsy??!! 

And by eliminating the buyers' feedback history, sellers have no way of knowing whether to expect a routine transaction or trouble from a customer trying to game the system.

Shell-shocked

Thousands of bewildered buyers and shell-shocked sellers have expressed valid concerns about these changes in Etsy forums - more than 12,500 in one thread alone. After all, a company making such dramatic changes without bothering to provide customers with advance notice surely is unprecedented in modern corporate behaviour. Sellers and buyers alike have been left scrambling to figure out the new system, in lieu of direction.

Etsy dismissively has muted its sellers; closing numerous threads and censoring comments. Occasionally, an "admin" has responded with patronising platitudes or vague allusions to "improvements" in a month or two. But for the most part, sellers have been silenced and left in the dark. Alas, you seem to have forgotten that without sellers, you'd be out of business.

Of course Etsy admins had a handful of one-hour phone calls with a privileged few (who then declined to reveal what was said, although they'd vigorously complained in the forums). But I never knew until Etsy blew up with furious sellers that you don't even maintain a customer service phone number! It's no wonder your customer service is so abysmal.

Etsy once prided itself on creating a unique marketplace for independent artists and artisans and vintage sellers. But with success, it seems you've abandoned your roots. And many, many sellers are choosing to take their business elsewhere.

Your reverence for handmade and vintage appears to have dimmed. Apparently, your head's been turned by hot-off-the-assembly-line shiny new items from China. After all, there's more money to be made in mass production of cheap goods of dubious distinction. How else can one explain why Etsy - widely applauded as the place for all things handmade - now openly promotes factory-produced knock-offs from China on the front page? A quick scroll through Etsy pages reveals thousands of such resellers.

A small Cambridge-based company has been producing beautiful leather book satchels for generations. On Etsy, a company in Singapore or China is touting virtually identical, brand-new copies in every colour, proclaiming them "vintage." The only thing "vintage" about those satchels is their copyrighted design. And Etsy - in its headlong race to mediocrity, as increasingly it emulates the behemoth eBay - lets these rogue companies violate community standards.

It would appear Etsy is in danger of becoming yet another corporation that has forgotten its founding ethos in favour of profit. You've undermined all that's unique and special about your original business model by adopting so-called "industry standard" practices that elevate profit over the individual. It's no surprise two founders left the company.

Even if you reversed course vis-a-vis your recent "improvements," it would be too little, too late. The trust has been eroded. Sadly, I don't see how such a customer/public relations disaster can end well for you, Etsy.

Sincerely,

Parisparfait (closed shop with 100 percent positive feedback)

Ode to Seamus Heaney

Ode to the Irish poet Seamus Heaney, who died last month after a sudden illness:

 

 

Emotions vie for attention,

crowding out the mundane

and leaving the fear

that must be faced.

Fragilities brought to light,

we wonder how we got here:

so young, so soon, so ill-prepared.

 

 

 

 

Bust of Marie-Antoinette, Versailles, France.