The Sketchbook Project

Sketchbook cover

Last summer a touring exhibit came through my local art center. It was called the Sketchbook Project and was a collection of sketchbooks from artists from all over the country (and some international folks too, if I remember correctly). The little books could be checked out and viewed and I just loved looking at and handling them.



I decided with heavy trepidation to try one myself for 2012. The trepidation results from my awareness that I am not talented in the drawing/sketching department and don't want to parade myself as being on a par with the talented folks who will be submitting theirs. On the other hand, there were many styles of sketchbooks and why not? Don't I need to lighten up and live a little? At 50 do I still care if my peers think I'm a dork and a geek? (Answer is, often, yes). So in the light of getting over myself I am submitting my little sketchbook this week (the deadline is the 31st). It will be out there for others to mock, ignore or enjoy as they will.



The theme of my book is Travel with Me. There was a choice and I chose to take my little book along with me to France this summer. As you can see from the pages I'm posting, mine is a cross between journal and scrap book with a few awkward sketches thrown in. I rebound the book and added additional sheets of paper, some from recycled paper items and a few from purchased sheets. At this point, I need to say, "It is what it is" and release it. I'm in the process of putting on the finishing touches and will likely post more scans in the next few days.

Danger de Mort!

I believe this is warning fisherman not to get their lines caught in the live wires which were, incidentally, at least 20 feet up in the air. Electrocuting oneself would have been quite a feat.

For See It Sunday--theme "danger."

Without Reservations

Siena, Italy

I just finished reading Without Reservations by Alice Steinbach. It is the story of a nearly year long "sabbatical" she took from her career as a journalist to live and travel in Europe and try to find herself along the way. I saw a lot of myself in the book as I read about her. She was 50 something at the time, her kids had left home and she was coming to terms with being in the latter half of her life.
This has been on my mind a lot of late too. Many existential questions of where do I go from here? On the one hand I think I love my work--note that even there I am losing my certainty. On the other hand part of me wants to "run away from home" and find a new life.
The back to school season leaves me thinking about transitions and empty nests--my oldest has moved into his own apartment near campus and my youngest started high school. In four years it will just be me and my husband, cats, turtle and fish rattling around in a too big house. Even before Alice suggested the idea by her own life choices, I had been thinking about what the next steps will be.
There are all these lists nowadays--50/100/1000 things to see/do/read before you die. I don't need a book to come up with my own list. It is there in my mind, more so when I get itchy feet and need to do something new or challenging.


Paris, France

Ms. Steinbach spends her year of wandering in France, Britain and Italy. She writes concisely as in a series of essays about her experiences of each place she stops, as well as her experience of herself in those places. Not everyone can do what she did--it requires a financial freedom and a freedom from pressing responsibilities that not everyone has. It also requires a degree of courage and spirit of adventure to make the leap.
I'm not likely to make any great leaps until my son graduates high school and heads off to college but I'm dreaming now. I hope I make the right choices for me when the time comes.
But back to the book. I very much enjoyed it. It is a relatively light read--easily accomplished in a couple of days but journeying with the author was a pleasure. It also may inspire me to pick up the works of some of her favorite authors: E.B. White, Freya Stark and Janet Flanner.
What's on your life list?

Thinking of Spring?

The days are getting shorter and the nights colder. The turtle is inside all snug in his container of dirt. I'd like to hibernate but instead I'm dreaming of April Fools Day in Paris. The "poisson" always makes me laugh.

Postcard Friendship Friday

Night Lights

La Rochelle harbor at night.
I find I'm getting pickier about my photos. I took several harbor photos and none are to my liking. Does this mean I'm getting to be a better photographer or just more selective in processing and posting? Whatever.

For Weekend Reflections.

Great Grapes

One of my first nights in France this summer, we stayed in a chateau. Actually we stayed in the outbuildings of a chateau. The place was charming but we found our hostess cold and unwelcoming. I guess not everything that glitters is gold.

For See It Sunday--grape.

L'Horloge

Back when I was studying French I used to enjoy puzzling through the poems of Baudelaire. Some poems are transparent and enjoyable for that reason; some require work to feel at least somewhat connected to what the meaning is. Baudelaire was in the latter category.
I had a momentary lapse and forgot the French word for "clock". Whilst looking it up (poetic word intended), I found a link to one of Baudelaire's poems, L'Horloge, from Les Fleurs du Mal (Flowers of Evil). Here is an excerpt with translation:

L'Horloge

Horloge! dieu sinistre, effrayant, impassible,
Dont le doigt nous menace et nous dit: «Souviens-toi!
Les vibrantes Douleurs dans ton coeur plein d'effroi
Se planteront bientôt comme dans une cible;

The Clock

Impassive clock! Terrifying, sinister god,
Whose finger threatens us and says: "Remember!
The quivering Sorrows will soon be shot
Into your fearful heart, as into a target;

Quote and translation from http://fleursdumal.org/poem/218

Makes one feel one's mortality, doesn't it?

A Very Big Shadow

Shadow of the Lighthouse of the Whales, Le Phare des Baleines, Ile de Re, France

Playing a new photo meme--Shadow Shot Sunday.

So many photos to process, so little time.

Nantes at Night

I spied on the neighborhood nightlife from my hotel window in Nantes, France.

See It Sunday--Night

Much Ado about Deux Chevaux

I don't care much for cars except for a way to get to point A to point B. My husband will gleefully point out how poorly I take care of my current vehicle but I can't help but not care as long as it drives. Maybe it is just a girl thing. In this case (as in quite a few others) it makes be proud to be female. Call me sexist, but there it is.



However, I saw a convention/gathering of fanciers of the Citroen 2CV while visiting the Chateau of Chambord in France and have to say I found them intriguing in an anachronistic way. Sort of like a vintage Bug I'd say. These cars were all over the place when I lived in Paris in the early 80's. I'd not thought about them since and now, like me, they are vintage. Alas, I doubt I'm considered a collectable.

One or two bits (horses?) of history: the Citroen 2CV (deux chevaux--two horses, meaning two tax horsepower--not sure about the tax part) was made from 1948-1990. It was intended as an economy car and as such was much cheaper than the aforementioned Volkswagen Beetle. It even had a bit part in a James Bond film.
OK so maybe I'm not car crazy, but cute is cute.

Looking at the Past

It's not even my own past, I know! Is nostalgia simply a product of getting older? I'd have to guess not given the resurgence of interest in classic rock music and clothes and styles of the 60's to 80's among the younger generation. Maybe I should have been a historian like my uncle and cousin since I like to dig through the history of objects, generally every day objects like photos and bits of paper, but especially photos.
I picked up some old photos at flea markets in France. They aren't too expensive a hobby compared to, say, that of a young friend of mine who boasted recently about having made an incredible deal on a Chanel purse in Thailand. She positively glowed with triumph. I on the other hand strive for a more modest 1 Euro and under fee for an early 20th century photo postcard. And I can't even wear it! (Although I did score a couple of 1980's blouses at a thrift store in Paris--another tale).
I spent a fair bit of time trying to trace some roots on the above postcard. In the interest of time, I'm just going to post what I put on my Flickr site:
I tried to date the postcard (blank on reverse except for Carte Postale imprint) by the journals. The Petit Journal on the banner was published from 1863-1944.
The woman is likely holding a journal Le Petit Parisien which was published from 1876 to 1944.
My best (uninformed) guess would be the photo was taken sometime between 1910-1920. Don't hesitate to educate me.
If you are interested in either of these old French journals, the Biblotheque nationale de France has all the editions scanned on their Gallica website. Pretty amazing. Here's the link:
gallica.bnf.fr/?lang=EN
They even have sound recordings. I could spend hours.

Actually I did spend hours. Here's another photo. It looks like it could be Paris but I have no further information. I feel as if I could write a novel just based on this one photo.

Jeudi, le 28 juillet, 2011

Now that I have time to post about my trip, I'm going back to my first day's journal entry. Here goes:



Craches, France
Are we there yet? Jet lag is still muddling my sense and senses but here we are in a small town somewhere near Chartres. Our arrival in France was unremarkable. Driving here involved a few wrong turns due to an unfortunate lack of a good map and a French-speaking GPS. (Actually it turns out it spoke English too, and probably Swahili if I'd tried to check, but we didn't figure that out the first day and by the time I had done so, I was stubbornly determined to use the French voice as part of my continual aspiration to maintain my French language skills). My French is good but having to adapt to "Tout droit," "Prenez le rond point. . ." has me surprised that GPS devices don't swear, along the lines of "You effing moron; you were supposed to turn back there!"


St. Aignan, Chartres

We visited Chartres and its wonderful Cathedral. It is under construction which is unfortunate but even so it is a wonderful building. Cathedrals such as this make me half wish I were Catholic so I could have the spiritual experience of praying in one. Fortunately, the urge passes quickly. I also feel drawn to lighting a candle but don't.
Our night is spent at a farm turned B&B in Craches. "Tres atmospherique," I'd say in French.

Paris hasn't changed much in the past millenium or two

I thought I'd just copy here my journal entry from yesterday afternoon:
August 5, 4:45
I've been wandering the Marais area all afternoon. I wound up continuing to shop--buying some old paper and an embroidery stamp at an antique shop in the Village St. Paul area which was, the shop I mean, stuffed to the brim with small items--sewing supplies, linens, buttons, items for school kids of earlier years, etc. While I was in the coffee house earlier, I had read through a picture book about the author's school days in the 50's and many of the things he mentioned were for sale there in the shop. I then found a "vintage", ie used, clothing store. I've been in search of a skirt as I overpacked shirts but found one pair of jeans, one pair shorts (not appropriate for Paris) and one dress wasn't quite the right mix of clothes. I didn't find a skirt that fit in the store but I got three great floral short sleeved blouses--one by Cacharel--probably from the 80's. I'm happy. While waiting for the changing room, I watched some French ladies browsing through the dresses--they favored red ones-- and some Asian (probably Japanese) girls trying on shorts. They were giggling in the dressing room for the longest time and left an enormous mess of empty hangers. I asked the sales girl and she said they did spend a fair bit which I hope justified the extra work they left her.
I was also able to visit a real antique store, mostly carrying iron work. The owner kindly educated me about "les heurtoirs"--door knockers but I couldn't afford the lovely item he showed me--a 17th century piece priced at 1700 Euros or so. It would have been so nice on my door too. He showed me one in a Druot catalog (like Sotheby's) of a hand shaped knocker--also 17th Century)--beautifully done with veins and finger nails evident on the iron hand. That went for 15,000 Euros. I still want a hand door knocker but I'll have to look for a "cheap" 19th Century one. As for now I only have a collection of pictures of them--I still find them quaint.



This journal entry was written while drinking Perrier in a Scottish pub. The bar man turns out to have been English not Scottish but after more than a week in France he felt like a compatriot. Sometimes my brain feels tired from straining to think in French. BTW the music in the bar was Dylan. It is rare to hear French music playing in a shop or cafe.

Chambord

Not bad for a country home. It makes me understand the French Revolution all the more. The interior is as fantastic as the exterior. Full of tourists but rightly so. I have to leave the gushing at that. The internet connection is too slow for multiple uploads and I should certainly be doing something other than blogging at the moment.
I'm currently in Le Mans, headed to Paris tomorrow. I'll try to post more from there. Paris should be great but I'll miss the smaller cities and towns and the drives through the countryside.
A bientot!

Greetings from the Marais-Poitevin

The photo is of Chartres, France



Look it up! It is kind of interesting and I'm not sure I have time to explain in detail. I am running between this stop and our next with a boat trip on the "Marais" which means swamp but which is really a system of canals first created in the middle ages by a group of monks for control of water levels. It is nicknamed the "Green Venice." I'm sure I'll be taking a million pictures. I hope I don't drop my camera in the water!

Gotta run! Having a great time!

Going, Going. . .

Not quite gone. But I'm going back to France! We leave on Tuesday for a two week trip. I will be spending around 10 days on the Atlantic coast of France with my husband and then a solo 5 days or so in Paris. I've spent too much time on line trying to find the perfect itinerary, perfect hotels, etc. but who's complaining? I'll try to post a bit while I'm gone but that depends on time and internet access. Life is good.

Black is the new White

I'm diverting myself, and hopefully you too, with a Parisian ad seen on the Champs Elysees this summer.

More from Paris

For Wordless Wednesday, the fourth of my ongoing door series. Note that door numbers 22 and 24 are from Paris but number 23 was in Chicago. It wasn't planned that way. The flyer posted on the door refers to a Chat Perdu (lost cat) by name of Chocolat. I hope the owner found him.

Door Number 24

We jump for our 4th door to Paris. Doors in Paris always seem to have an air of mystery. What history and art, what domestic secrets are enclosed within? I've only known a few Parisian families personally and I always felt privileged to be admitted into their homes.

The Mad Hatters?

London Hatmaker


Parisian Hatmaker


Hat display at the Portobello Market in London

Other than baseball caps, we Americans are clearly lagging in the hat department.