Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Sunset . . . Leads to Dover Beach . . . Fade to Cortez

I took this photo from my office window last Friday evening, catching just the very tail end of the sunset. And for some reason, although there is no seascape, no chalk cliffs visible, no sound of pebbles being washed by waves on the shore, looking at this image again this evening, before deciding to throw artistic caution to the winds and post it, reminded me of the below poem which I first discovered in a college English class, and never forgot . . .
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Dover Beach . . . . . by Matthew Arnold
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The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
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Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Agaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
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The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hearIts melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
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Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
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And in case anyone might have been wondering what I was listening to while doing these posts, I'd like to thank Heather Ainsworth at Freewheelin' for posting a few photos from a concert by Grace Potter, who I admit I was not familiar with, but I'm now making up for lost time by watching video's like this one on YouTube :
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Life Is Beautiful . . .

This post goes out to Jeff at "Life Is Beautiful". For quite some time he had a wild poppy flower in the header of his blog, but it recently changed, as he just gave his entire blog layout a major facelift, so if you have a minute, do stop by his blog. Part of the new look involved learning how to modify the HTML code on the page to make the pictures bigger . . . and his photos from France, Morocco, and god only knows where else, benefit tremendously from the larger presentation. But what I really like about Jeff is his wickedly sharp and funny mind that turns up word games at a mile a minute. French language recommended but not required.
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I took the above poppy (coquelicot) photo at the edge of field near where we live in northern France. This is the view across the field. The Senlis Cathedral spire is just barely visible in the distance.
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Amber fields of grain . . .
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Monday, June 29, 2009

For the Horse Lovers In the Audience . . .

I would like to offer this picture up for your consideration, and in so doing invite you to head over to English Rider's "Where's My Effing Pony", because there is simply some damn good writing going on over there . . . by one generous lady with a big heart and alot of gumption. This may not be the pony she was dreaming of, but it's my best shot at it . . .
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And if I may, without meaning to overload you already busy and beautiful people, there are also some lusty Irish horse (and sheep and cat and dog and probably most any other kind of four legged critter) lovers at this address right here, belonging to the inimitable Watercats . . . and if you're disappointed, well shucks, I'll refund you the price of admission !!! Now how's that for a deal ??? And there's some good music going on there too. . . don't miss the audio player right at the top of their page with some homegrown tunes in it !
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And finally, this one goes out to my daughter Mimi, who is also a horse lover, and who's a long way from home right now . . . we love ya, honey !
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Saturday, June 27, 2009

Duet For Windshield Wipers in D Minor . . .

Came across this duet of Peugeot 404's submerged under tractor tires in a backwater stretch of woods in southern France a few years ago. This photo of a pair of dream cars is the first to have the privilege of being posted out of a large batch of black and white photos fresh back from the lab after being turned into digital files . . . only a few thousand more to come . . . will anyone have the patience to stick around ? ! ? Hmm, I wonder . . .
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Anyway, I loved the way these two old beauties were snuggled up against each other; and maybe they pulled the tires over themselves to try to stay warm in the cold night air. . . For some unfathomable reason this scene brought to mind a poem from Alice In Wonderland . . .
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JABBERWOCKY
Lewis Carroll
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`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
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"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
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He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
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And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
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One, two! One, two!
And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
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"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
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`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
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Friday, June 26, 2009

Aussie Tractors !

Let me start first by saying that I did not take the following series of tractor photos. They were done by my 15 year old daughter last week on a farm which is about a two hour drive from Brisbane, Australia. A few words to her will follow below the photos. . . As you can see, like father, like daughter; she's a chip off the old block.
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Second, I'd like to dedicate this post to Nathalie over at "Avignon In Photos" who was named a Blog of Note this week by Blogger.com, and who richly deserves that most prestigious form of recognition among Blogspot bloggers. Congratulations Nathalie ! And thank you for your kind words over the past months which have really shown me just how good a blogging friendship can be.
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So, if you haven't yet been to Avignon in Photos, please take a peek there soon, and if you don't wind up in the bargain at least a little bit tempted to go visit Avignon, well, I'll eat my hat . . . my hat which right now is off to Nathalie. . . (Partly why this tractor post is dedicated to Nathalie is because she lived out in Australia for quite a few years, so I thought she might like them. . . although why, or if, a nice lady like Nathalie would like a heap of rusty old tractors is another question entirely !)
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Dear Mimi,
Thank you ever so much for e-mailing your Papa these fabulous tractor photos you took with your new camera. I can't tell you how proud I am of you. First, because you worked so hard in school that you were one of only eight students in the whole class to get picked for the exchange trip to Australia. Second, because you organized all by yourself the summer job you're going to do when you get home to pay me back for your camera. That wasn't easy to do, but you sold your skills well. That is an art that will prove useful in life. Third, because in taking these photos, you have just shown me better than any words could do that you love your old Papa just a little bit, your Papa who loves to photograph abandoned cars, ancient falling down houses, cemeteries, and all manner of other strange and wonderful subjects.
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Keep taking pictures honey ! Photography is an art you can practice your whole life long, few activities can be more rewarding than to produce a beautiful image. Be patient though, it is easy to take mediocre photos, but good photos require hard work and concentration and care and just a little touch of magic, plus a large dose of humor, a willingness to laugh at life's absurdities. Experiment ! Don't be afraid to take lots of pictures of the same thing from every angle possible until you find what works. With digital cameras that is easy today. When I was learning how to take photos, I had to be very parsimonious with the film, and could only take one or two pictures of any given subject. You have complete freedom to make mistakes, and learn from them. Do close-ups of details of objects that please you. Back away and think about how you are framing your shots, and about exactly what you want in the picture. Take your time, don't rush.
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I can't believe you're out in Australia and left your parents at home ! All I can say is, we never had any opportunity like that when I was your age in our school. I don't know if I'll ever get to take Maman to Australia, so we're counting on you to take tons of good photos out there so we can at least see what it really looks like. Maybe your photographs will be the final straw contributing to helping us decide to go there one day.
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Make the most of the time you have left out there ! Can't wait to hear all about it when you get home. We're proud of you !
Lots of Love !
Papa
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PS. . Make copies of your photos, put them on a CD or USB key or something, keep them separate from the camera, change the memory card and keep it in a safe place... cameras have an unpleasant habit of wandering off in airports and at beaches and restaurants and so on...
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Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Summer Solstice Music Festival . . .

The 21st of June every year in France has been for some years now bequeathed the title of "La Fete de la Musique". . . the Festival of Music . . . and in communities all over France it is the day when musicians of all stripes can pull out all the stops to get out and play in public. And plenty of the public turn out to see what's going on. I couldn't help but take a stroll around the town of Senlis this past Sunday afternoon, to see what I could see, and hear what was to be heard . . . I was not disappointed. What a scenic setting for live music ! At the west end of the Cathedrale a gentleman was doing very passable covers of James Taylor songs on an acoustic guitar . . . "Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall, All you got to do is call, and I'll be there . . ."
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On the south side of the Cathedrale a jazz band was be-bopping with a beautiful backdrop . . .
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In front of the parish church another band was belting out a surprisingly fine rendition of Sweet Home Alabama . . .
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One of their spare guitars stood in front of an ancient stone wall . . . Why is the form of the Fender so appealing to the eye ??? Anyone in their right mind just wants to grab it and start JAMMIN' . . .
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The tuning keys and head of the upright bass seemed perfect to accompany the flamboyant gothic of the Cathedrale stones . . .
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Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Gonesse Graveyard . . .

After leaving the Paris Air Show grounds on Friday, I drove up the road just a short distance to the town of Gonesse, and took a quick look around at the ancient church there, and the cemetery not far away. Gonesse, you may recall, was where the Concorde flight came crashing down on 25 July, 2000, destroying a hotel on the ground and killing 113 people. It seems the aftermath of that tragic story continues; in February 2010 a trial will take place where Continental Airlines and some of its employees, as well as a few former Concorde program and French civil aviation people are being charged with involuntary homicide. Continental was accused of being in part responsible for the accident because a part that fell off one of their planes taking off just before the Concorde apparently caused the Concorde's tire to explode, setting in motion the rupture of the fuel tank and the ensuing crash shortly after it took off from CDG Airport. I recall watching the tremendous column of smoke rising toward the heavens that day, and wondering what terrible thing could have caused it, not knowing yet that it was a Concorde that had crashed.
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Shortly after entering the cemetery I stumbled on this blond haired angel with a broken leg. Looks like he's throwing up his hands saying, "Jeez, sure would be nice if someone would come by with a little super-glue" . . .
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From far across the cemetery it was plain that there was only one upright sculpture in the entire place, of a most handsome and dignified looking lady. In one of those odd coincidences that happen only in the blogosphere, over at Rain's place yesterday she posted photos from a cemetery in Canada in which there was also just one upright sculpture. Now what are the odds of that happening ?
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She had lovely hands with long, delicate fingers, beautiful poise. I love to look at a woman's hands. . .
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On the ground nearby lay this odd and totally out of place imitation license plate proclaiming "Las Vegas Mary". I couldn't help wondering if she had travelled in early 1900's to the far west of America, and partook of the hard drinking, hard gambling life deeply enough to have earned the moniker ? In my eyes she looked to be a proud and beautiful woman . . . I think I'll remember her as "Proud Mary of Las Vegas fame" . . .
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Gonesse Graveyard (cont.)

When I saw this structure from a distance, I have to admit my first thought was, "What on earth is a bus stop shelter doing in a cemetery ?" But drawing closer I realized that the clear blue glass enclosure was a sort of tombstone protective housing. I've never seen one like it. Can't imagine stepping inside. . . sort of like sliding into a phone booth to communicate with the spirit world ???
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A tombstone that looked like it had taken a serious hit from something. Maybe a shooting star ?
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Broken ornaments that didn't stand the test of time . . .
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The last thing I saw before heading out of there, which caught me by surprise, was a large grave with a plaque in German to the effect, "Here lie 122 German soldiers who fell in the slaughter at Le Bourget from October to December 1870." Having just walked around Le Bourget earlier in the afternoon, I was wondering what the heck had happened there. Am going to have to do some digging into the 1870 war, it is not a subject covered in any of the history classes I ever took. . .
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Monday, June 22, 2009

Paris Air Show ( At last. . .)

After being waylaid by small red cars and colorful murals, I finally was able to shake myself loose and get into the grounds of the 100th Anniversary Paris Air Show at Le Bourget Airport, just north of Paris and south of CDG Airport. It seemed a little quieter to me than in some previous years, smaller crowds and not much really new on display, but it's always enjoyable if you are a bit of a romantic about flying machines to see what's happening there. This old Air France DC-3 is just the sort of plane to get my heart thumping, from another age. Can you imagine climbing into one of these and heading out across the Atlantic ?
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There was another DC-3 parked near the A380; highlighting the generation gap. It never ceases to amaze me how far mankind's technological prowess has led in the domain of aviation. Before questions like global warming took center stage. . . and rightly so.
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Don't know if this photo succeeds in conveying just how huge the A380 really is. . . that it can get off the ground at all is astonishing.
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And finally a nose view of a meaner sort of beast, an F35 ; something you don't want to see in your rearview mirror. . . It saddens me that almost from the beginning of aviation, when it really started to take off, so to speak, about a hundred years ago, people were looking for military applications. And now a hundred years on, vast sums are still being spent on finding ways to make killing machines like this one go just a little faster, a little higher, a little stealthier . . . while half the planet starves to death.
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Sunday, June 21, 2009

Paris Air Show ( not quite there yet ) . . .

As mentioned below, I went to the Paris Air Show yesterday afternoon, and as parking is never easy there, I parked quite a ways away in the community of Le Blanc Mesnil, across the main road that goes by Le Bourget Airport, and walked over to the airport entrance. Going down a little travelled side street there I was taken with the colorful murals that had been painted on the long wall of a social services center. Life for many people in the northern suburbs of Paris is not necessarily very easy, social services are sorely needed. I liked this first image of people helping each other up a steep slope. . . many people in these parts have a hard climb in front of them to reach even a minimum level of subsistence.
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Questionable math skills here however . . .
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Chaud devant !
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Faces, some not looking too pleased about something ?
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I liked this panel on a number of planes ; the girl on the beach, "pour les grands" - for grownups, not sure what is on her shoulder there, maybe a bit of seaweed ? But especially at the right side here, looks like a red UFO coming in for a landing, hopefully bearing news from other planets, letting us know we are not alone here on Earth. . . (I saw not a single UFO around the Paris Air Show, which one could imagine should attract them like flies !)
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Open to all, all are welcome . . .
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At the very far end of the wall, the contributing artists had signed their names and nicknames. . . I was secretly pleased to observe that among them . . . there was a Toad !
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Saturday, June 20, 2009

Paris Air Show (preview...)

This afternoon I had the opportunity to go walk around at the Paris Air Show at Le Bourget Airport, which happens every two years. More on that soon, but one of the craziest things I saw there today was not an airplane at all, but a tiny clown car . . . built by the famous, or infamous, Messerschmitt company. My goodess, I swear I'd never seen a car quite like this one. . . have you ? ? ? It was parked in the shadow of a wing of a Boeing 747 belonging to Air France. I absolutely love the headlight and mirrors design here, and she's got some nice curves if you ask me. . . I wonder how she handles, and what her top speed might be ? ? ?
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Friday, June 19, 2009

From Lebanon, With Love . . .

Was thinking about Beirut, Lebanon today because my sister-in-law who lives there was here in Paris for a few days, and returned back to Beirut yesterday. It seems like only yesterday we were there with her for her wedding, but it's been two years since then already. So two years ago we spent 15 days between Lebanon and Syria. All I can say, was it was not enough, and we would love to go back. Funny how certain places leave a feeling engraved in memory which may be hard to define in words, but which comes back when triggered by an image. This picture of the bread man pushing his bike, with a black BMW in the background, is one such image for me. He was determined and plodding on, his customers were going to get their bread, no doubt about it.
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Beirut is a paradise for abandoned car lovers. This Mercedes had seen better days. It had probably seen worse days also, as the civil war raged on for year after year. Lebanon is a scarred country, the people who lived through that period are deeply marked by it. They do not wish to return to the nightmare they knew for too long.
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I've said in a few previous posts in these pages that I don't tend to do postcard type photos, but am slipping this shot I took in Baalbek in here just in case you may not be planning on travelling to Lebanon any time soon, if ever, and might have been wondering what some of the incredible Roman ruins there might look like. Baalbek was known as Heliopolis back a couple of millenia ago, the temple there was among the largest in the ancient world, is remains one of the best preserved. . . If ever you have the opportunity to get there, don't miss it. . .
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Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Of Dogs and Stones and Crescent Moons . . .

Imagine you're a young guy walking down a lava flow beach on a Canary Island in the warm March sun. Imagine you have the beach all to yourself, so you think. But then strolling a little farther along the rough black volcanic rock by the sea, you suddenly realize you are not alone, there is a very naked young lady lying in a low spot in the rocks where you couldn't see her until you were a little too close for innocent comfort. Imagine just then a big black dog comes from who knows where, walks right up, and stands there gazing at the remarkable landscape of the Canary Islands. Well, that is exactly what happened one day to your reporter. What does one do in such a situation ??? Nowhere in one's schooling is one taught how to react when confronted with such irrefutable facts and bare evidence. So your reporter did what any reporter worth his salt would do . . . he took a picture . . . and here it is . . . I admit, I couldn't help wondering what that dog had on its mind . . . maybe chasing a little tail for fun ? Isn't that what many dogs like to do ???
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The dog, it quickly became apparent, just wanted to play, and had an obsession for picking up stones. He struggled with this one for quite a little while . . .
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Getting down and grinding his teeth on it, growling all the while . . .
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Finally, after much effort, he managed to pick up a large rounded stone, which he then carried proudly over to the sleeping goddess there, who knew what was going on ; if you look carefully there is a hand waiting to receive the stone, like manna from heaven. Your reporter was sorely tempted to pick up a few large stones himself, with his teeth if necessary, to take them over as offerings, but didn't . . . how terrible it is to be so shy as to let obvious opportunities like that pass by in life. . . For the astronomically oriented people in the audience, you may just be able to make out a waning crescent moon in this image, like the real moon outside tonight . . . ahh, the perfection that reigns in some of nature's forms . . .
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Another smaller black dog dropped by to check out the action on the beach, but after a short nose to nose conversation, he decided to amble off to other parts. . .
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When the reclining female proved to be too inanimate, he came over to see me, and we had a fine time for a while, your reporter tossing stones into the tidal puddle, the dog splashing in to fetch them. . . (music repeats and fades to end a daydream song)
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Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Monkey On My Back . . .

Over at one of the most intensely and consistenly beautiful blogs in the blogosphere, Tidings of Magpies, Distracted by Shiny Objects posted a video day before yesterday of a couple of musicians I had not encountered before. Having enjoyed the song she posted immensely, I went looking on YouTube, and quickly found another tune that really grabbed me, which has an intriguing video to go with it, so to celebrate heading back to work tomorrow, I submit for your consideration Monkey On A Wire, by Kasey Chambers and Shane Nicholson, may they live long and prosper :
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A Tiger On the Loose in Scotland . . .

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I would like to dedicate this piece to Liz at Jumble Sale Rabbits, in part to thank her for all the effort she undertook this weekend to dig up from wherever it was buried, and then photograph, her marvellous old tricycle, which I suspect she did partly due to the requests she got from me after I'd heard about it; but also in large part to encourage all you good people to pay her a visit, and take a look at her marvellous illustrations. I grew up on a literary diet of Kenneth Grahame, L. Frank Baum, C.S. Lewis, Rudyard Kipling, Maurice Sendak, Lewis Carroll, and so on, all of which came with illustrations that set my mind wondering at an early age. And I suppose I'm still looking for a way back to some of those magical worlds, which still seem pure and clean compared to our own . . . In any case, I fell in love with Liz Gunby's charming tiger Tiddles at first sight, and sincerely hope her dream of getting Tiddles published for the large audience he deserves will become a reality someday.
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In honor of Tiddles, and to let him know he has some friends in France, here are some stuffed animals that were patiently and hopefully awaiting a good home at the jumble sale that took place near here a few weeks back, already documented in these pages. . . this wild looking duck was spurring his captive rabbit on to new adventures. . . (am wondering if this may be a cousin to one of the evil rabbits Tiddles had to deal with not long ago?)
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Rabbits and tigers and bears !
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Whole colorful crates full, waiting to be adopted . . .
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This one had a hand knit sweater . . .
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Ready to roll . . .
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Even a zebra was hoping to escape the stuffed lions that were stalking him . . .
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