Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Doors to Other Worlds . . .

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Life is often composed as much by things that might have been, but were not, as by things that were. As each day slips into the irretrievable past, memories take on dream like qualities. Was I really there ? Do these photographs tell the truth, these stolen moments in time ?
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I often see doors I want to open, doors beyond which lie worlds to discover, the vast, infinite worlds of the other, he or she who we will never know. So many of those doors are locked, and no one is home. No key can be found. Rare is the door that opens into the warm kitchen of another, where a bowl of soup stands steaming on a rough hewn table. Where a story awaits the traveller.
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These virtual doors we call blogs, sometimes they open into the rich new universe of a perfect stranger. Sometimes doors that seemed to open swing shut again without warning. Some blogs just disappear, leaving no forwarding address. A light goes out. A voice goes silent. A door is shut and locked. A key is lost. I guess that's life, and trying to make sense of it may not always bring any satisfaction. My warmest wishes to the open doors out there, may your candles burn brightly in the night.
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I cannot help but wonder though sometimes, what treasures lie beyond these closed doors.
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31 comments:

The Sagittarian said...

Oh I'm first through the Wardrobe door today! Look, my foot prints are muddying up your comment box...I am fascinated by old doors too, love the blue ones!

The Sagittarian said...

and sorry but I left my picnic basket at your last post, care to send it back (fill it up first please dear Brother - the usual, ham, cheese, crusty bread and a nice French bubbly will do nicely...)

Owen said...

Ah, dear Saj, you are indeed early today, and for your troubles I'm sure we can find more than just ham, cheese, and crusty bread... how about some good green olives stuffed with garlic from the south, rillettes to spread on that bread, smoked ham in thin country slices, melon balls with the ham, roblochon, bleu d'auvergne, saint nectaire, saint marcellin, and rocamadour for cheeses, mmmm, maybe some fresh seafood from Britanny, crevettes, petoncles, coquilles saint jacques, filets de sole, et oui, bubbly bubbly bubbly as much as you like... and can we finish with some chocolates from la Maison du Chocolat? Yes, dangerous to leave your basket laying about, it could get filled up with the most surpising goodies...

mythopolis said...

I really enjoyed the them of your narrative, and each photo is simply wonderful and provokes so much wonder as to what lives have played out or do play out behind those doors....

Owen said...

Hey Dan, as a woodworker I figured you might like some of these ancient, very well weathered doors. Amazing how wood holds up over the centuries...

louciao said...

Doors! Particularly ancient, impossibly weathered ones, set in stone walls. Though newer ones in broadly smiling colours also good. Yes. Absolutely. Siblings. Proof positive.

My door is always open to you. Except when it's closed. But the key is under the cat.

Bienvenue chez French Girl in Seattle... said...

Bonjour Owen. Thank you for stopping at "my door" today. I am glad you enjoyed reading about Monsieur Eiffel and his tower. I am glad I visited your blog today. I love this post. You have quite the collection of old doors! I noticed most of them have a different type of locks/handles. Great photos. Veronique (French Girl in Seattle)

babbler said...

Dear Owenslug,
I should like to slide upon the glass window and peek through the spaces between the woven yarn curtains, leaving a silvery trail that shall tell the next traveler that this door is one that can be opened and might even contain some treats to nibble upon inside.....bubbly, bubbly, BUBBLY I say! The pop of a cork and the villagers raise a fluted glass, a musical tinkle, the sound of celebration...Tentacles all a twitter, the group decides to load up the aforementioned baskets full of cheeses and goodies, wines and breads, and crawl upon the curving, woven handles while singing a song of the slug....The air is sweet and warm, the breeze light and filled with music. It is early evening and an autumn moon appears along with a setting sun which casts a shadow across the fountain in the square - The slugs, standing upon tips of tails, squeal with delight as they realize that there is no door which one slug cannot slide under to see what the other side looks like. One day, that door will belong to the Slug and Lettuce, with many convenient locations near you. (If you happen to live in the UK.) See you there someday!

Steve said...

I have a portcullis and boiling oil rather than a door... but it is never used on friends and you will always be welcome inside my great hall, Owen. Especially if you bring a nice bottle of French.

Alistair said...

As always with you Owen, great shots. Very thought provoking intro too. I suspect very many of us feel the same way. I suspect if you peered through a keyhole you may find the odd unblinking eye looking out too.....

Purpletreebird said...

Hi Owen, It's a while since I've visited but I'm still here with my blog door swung wide open! ;) I love these old doors, so mysterious, When I see doors like this I always want to open them to see what's on the other side but in reality it's usually a disappointment isn't it? An old garage full of rubbish! Our imaginations have much better answers don't they. :)

Purpletreebird said...

Oh...and it's Jess by the way! (Used to call my blog Jessie Lilac)

lgsquirrel said...

Wonderful imagery. Glad that you have your door open to all us visiting bloggers.

Gwen Buchanan said...

Doors... ohhh, Doors... I adore doors... and the stories of the things that went on behind them...
Beautiful!!

Céline said...

Hi Owen,
Comme d'habitude, I love your pictures, indeed...old stones and wood...
Mais ce soir c'est ton texte qui me touche particulièrement et je te remercie infiniment de m'avoir ouvert ta porte et d'avoir poussé la mienne. Très belle soirée, ami virtuel !
Bises

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Dear Janus,
I love the way you weave your photos into a parallel passage of words.
I love the door with the little gable and the sedums growing on the roof.
I love the sound of Saj's picnic basket - watch out Saj - I can smell those cheeses!

All these worlds - so many to venture into behind those doors down the sides of one another's pages. And from the few I allow myself to indulge in I know that there are really many, many more worth opening.

Thankyou for visiting the windows.

ρομπερτ said...

moved me much.


please have you all a good wednesday.

Genie -- Paris and Beyond said...

Your words are a prelude to the mystery of the doors, weathered, abandoned, mostly forgotten...

My blog door is open, and I send warm wishes to your door, my friend.

Bises,
Genie

Owen said...

Am off to bed now after reading all kind words here... so, a lifted glass to open doors...

Perhaps the incredible Eddy Vedder said it best when he wrote :

"On bended knee is no way to be free
Lifting up an empty cup, I ask silently
All my destinations will accept the one that's me
So I can breathe..."

To hear the rest....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtZ1TK1Sfpg&ob=av2e

I just wish I had more time, more time to keep opening doors, to keep doors open... only so many minutes in a day, and so many doors... be well, one and all...

Stickup Artist said...

You really know how to put it out there weaving together your thoughtful, from the heart narrative with these earthy images. Rare indeed is the door... I think we have found such a door here...

Alistair said...

Owen,

Thanks too for the link to Eddie Vedder - someone I've never heard before. I really enjoyed his music listened to so far and he's going to feature heavily on my Christmas wish list!

Thank you.

Le Journal de Chrys said...

La porte avec le rideau extérieur: intriguant!

jeff said...

Il faut que tu me donnes les adresses des serruriers des premières photos ! je dois faire changer la serrure de ma maison ! ! !...:)
Je vois que nous avons la même passion pour les portes, les ouvertures, les fermetures, les passages, le bois, la ferraille, la rouille... bref, tout ce qui a vécu et qui tient le coup ! ! ! :)
Tiens ! j'ai comme une envie soudaine de claquer une porte ! :)
Pas la tienne, non...:)... et ni la mienne ! Je ne sais pas ce qu'il m'arrive ? L'abus de portes des Causses peut-être ?
Amitiés cher Owen et bonnes ouvertures...
En parlant d''ouvertures, tu n'aurais pas vu une blonde, la trentaine, les yeux verts, les hanches...:)

Ciao pixpot !
A plus !

-K- said...

These are all so good. I can't imagine how old they must be.

:: Karine :: said...

comme elles sont belles ces portes owen adoré !
et comme tu as raison !
qu'y a-t-il eu derrière ces portes ? quelles histoires, quels amours ? quels secrets ?
j'aime beaucoup la relation que tu fais avec les blogs ! on y entre par la petite porte, on visite des lieux que l'on aurait jamais visité et on y fait des rencontres magiques !
une chose est sûre en tout cas ma porte te sera toujours ouverte au sens propre comme au sens figuré !
belle jpurnée à toi mon ami

TechnoBabe said...

Doors are one of my most favorite things. You have found some lovely doors and the colors on some of them are amazing. I can't find many great doors in our little town but I will venture out to other towns some day for a door photo shoot.

James said...

Owen you are a master of words and images! This post is outstanding and so true. Bravo!

Pastelle said...

Une très belle note, des portes et photos pleines de charme.
Pour moi aussi le net c'est un peu ça, comme un grand village, et je fais le tour dès que j'ai un peu de temps, rendre visite aux uns et aux autres. Les portes ouvertes, on fait un petit coucou, on admire la décoration du jour, et les portes fermées aussi. Il y a des trésors derrière chacune d'elles.
Et comme toi, je suis bien triste quand une maison est abandonnée. Mais je me dis que c'est pour mieux vivre dans l'autre vie.

Pieces of Sunshine said...

Beautiful post in word and photo. You sure found some intriguing doors.

Roxana said...

this post, both text and photos, is so deep and touching... often i find myself thinking the same thoughts as you, asking myself the same questions, with wonder and melancholia: "Was I really there ? Do these photographs tell the truth, these stolen moments in time ?"
and i also know the sadness when a virtual door, a blog we've grown to love and visit, suddenly closes and whatever glimpse we used to have at that life is lost (sometimes forever)...

thank you for these wonderful moments, Owen... all this (and our friendship) means so much to me...

Piamuizphil said...

Ah, le causse Méjean où de magnifiques portes ferment des ruines sublimes. La pierre, le bois et la rouille s'unissent et forment un tableau des plus attachants. Superbe !