The Wheel . . .

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Long ago in a forgotten age, man invented the wheel. Along with mastering fire, the wheel was one of the driving forces which got us where we are today. For better or worse. Will let you roll on into a new week pondering the pregnant subject of wheels and circles and cycles, and all that they imply. This one was spotted in the foothills of the French Alps. 1991.
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An abandoned form of transportation. Perhaps what was called in French a "velo-moteur". Did any of you ever ride one of these in your youth ? Quelqu'un parmi vous a déjà fait une balade sur un velo-moteur ?
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Mirror Image . . .

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Sometimes we take photographs for no apparent reason. Except in the case of reflection images, where it is evident that the apparent reason is to be able to participate in James Reflections Weekend... that is reason enough.
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It's All About the Light . . .

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The other day late in the afternoon, there was a strange glow in the frosted glass in the window at the top of the cellar stairs.
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I ran around to the front windows to see if the world was ending or aliens were landing or some such. There was a crazy pink light painting everything all rosy, and I hadn't even been drinking !
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The sunset was doing a wild dance in the western skies.
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Gotta love days like that. Because it's all about the light, the light we see, the light we share, the light we shine.
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In the Birthday Spirit of Sharing . . .

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What with all the talk about birthdays of late, I thought it fairly self evident that some of you would not be able to sleep easily for weeks to come if I did not share with you a glimpse or two of what la Grenouille created in the way of a birthday cake. Even though the fateful day was last week, we only got around to celebrating properly on Sunday, as I was hard at work in the factory through Saturday. So here it is. A cherry cake with lots of delicious cherries baked into it. As well as a layer of chocolate at the bottom which you can see in the second photo if you look carefully. And who was it who said, "If there's no bread, let them eat cake" ?
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I was too late for Jame's Reflection Weekend series this week, but am there in spirit. As you can see here, some mice have stopped by our kitchen to help themselves of this preposterously good tasting cake. I wouldn't bet much on its chances of surviving 48 hours at the outside. In fact, as of this writing, it is already half gone. . . You'd best hurry on over here if you'd like to sample it !
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The Best . . .

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Although it is rather late here, I'd just like to thank all of you who may venture here from time to time, your comments on the birthday post below this one completely floored me, and I wanted to take the time to answer each and every one of you, before moving on here. Hope to be back around soon to all of your places. All I can say is, you are :
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PS . Anyone who'd like to take a guess at what the full message here was is more than welcome to. Answer will be posted in near future.
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Just A Little Further On . . .

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It seems hard to fathom that another year has passed, in the blink of an eye. The holidays have gone by and the new year has been amply celebrated, but a more personal day of reckoning is drawing nigh, that date of birth, where one steps back and considers where one has been, what one has become, and where one is going. I'm beyond the point where I'm secretly hoping for presents; a bit of cake will do the trick nicely, and la Grenouille is good at that sort of thing.
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No, these days it is more a question of wanting to give; to give my daughters a chance for an education worthy of their dreams, to give la Grenouille the company of a smiling toad, to give you the pleasure (if such it may be) of being able to view in these pages the photographs I've been pouring heart and soul into over the years, such as they are.
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There are some recurring themes in my work, which you know by now if you've looked back at any length into the archives here. I wonder if anyone does ever look back beyond the most recent of posts. Maybe someday. These pages contain already a good part of the history of my days here on earth. One life among 7 billion currently living, and among god only knows how many who went before. (One interesting article here gives a rough estimate of how many humans have ever lived.) I hope to keep going a bit further here, further on down the road.
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Dream cars have always had a powerful call for me, speaking volumes about our society. This one in southern France seen a few years back was a classic, disappearing under the brambles, and will be going no further, other than going back down into the ground.
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Texture is another favorite theme, especially texture in old paint . . .
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And texture in ancient wood, old rusting metal bits . . .
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Texture in stone . . .
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Even texture in bone . . .
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This grinning skull was in the window of a medical school supplies store in downtown Paris a few years ago, I don't know if it is still there. I photographed it because it brought back memories of other hanging skeletons from a laboratory oft visited in childhood.
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Came across a funny website recently called "dumpr.net" which lets you play around with your photos. One of the possibilities was to put your work in a museum. So if ever one day any of the work on this blog ever were to get into a museum, here is what it might look like. Keep on dreaming, all the way to eternity.
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So, hope to see you a little further on up the road . . .
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Brokeback Bicycle Blues . . . Or ; A Bicycle Built For the Blues . . .

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In the post below this one, Tom b. caught me in the act of photographing a bicycle which had obviously been run over more than once. These are some of the photos that were in progress at that moment. I hope the rider managed to escape the catastrophe which struck. This poor bicycle seems to be pretty much beyond repair. A case for all the king's horses and all the king's men.
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In this first photo you can see a large chunk is missing out of the back wheel and tire. I recall commenting to Tom that a very large dog must have been chasing this bike, and caught it ! May have shaken it and worried it a bit as well. Hard to say what tragedy happened here. The anatomy of a bicyclic cadavre.
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A pedal already sporting some green growth. The beginnings of disintegration. And rust.
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Hub and spoke theory . . .
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Seen better days . . . ready to roll, but maybe a bit wobbly . . . Anybody care to go for a ride ? Heaven only knows where we could get to on this bicycle built for the blues.
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A Day With Tom b. !

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Quite some time back a fellow blogger's tip (Thanks Laurie !) led me to the blogspot blog Tom b. Photography, where I first discovered the fabulous photography and reporting that Tom B. has been doing on abandoned buildings, graveyards, and other miscellaneous material that catches his eye across North America. Back in April 2010 Tom moved his blog to the Tumblr platform, so his active site where new and simply excellent material is going up regularly is at Tom b. Photography on Tumblr. If you enjoy abandoned buildings and/or vintage clothing, do drop by Tom's sites and check out his work. I was mesmerized from day one.
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While in the USA last September I had the really good luck to be able to meet Tom, and spend the better part of a day on a photo expedition with him. The exact location of where we went that day is of no importance here, it was a pair of abandoned industrial factories somewhere in North America. Just a few days after that trip with Tom, I came across a tombstone in a cemetery for someone named Tomb. Needless to say I sent a copy of the photo to Tom b.
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I've never met anyone who was as totally concentrated on, and as physically involved in their photography as Tom is. The incredible results he obtains are the direct result of the intense energy he puts into his shooting. I had the impression I was accompanying a professional athlete, a professional in every sense. He does considerable research on the sites he chooses to visit; many of the pieces on his blog go into great detail about the history of the buildings. But once he gets on site, he and the camera become one, seeking the perfect image.
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We thought it was mighty kind of the owners to set out a settee for visitors to repose on should a rest be needed. Tom looks right at home, don't you think ?
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One last shot, heading down a demolished staircase, out of there ! Thanks so much Tom ! It was a rare privilege to be able to spend that day with you !
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While we traipsed around like ghosts haunting the place with our presence, Tom also took a few photos of me at work, which he kindly sent to me later.
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I always wanted to be a truck driver !
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One of my favorite subjects that day was a flattened bicycle on the floor, which had obviously been driven over more than once by heavy vehicles, reducing it to a two dimensional shadow of its former self. More on that later. Tom caught me in the act.
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Starry Starry Night . . .

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On Sunday, the second of January, though it was cold, dark, dismal and drizzling, we wanted to get out for some fresh air and a bit of a stroll, after all the holiday over-indulgences, so la Grenouille didn't object when I proposed we go pay a visit and homage to Vincent van Gogh's, and his brother Theo's tombs in the graveyard at Auvers sur Oise, just north of Paris. They both died young, 37 and 33 respectively, and in tragic circumstances. At least Vincent's paintings survived. I wonder what Vincent and Theo would think if they knew what the paintings sell for today.
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The adjacent tomb had a rose growing there, sending out runners above Vincent and Theo's headstones.
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The church at Auvers sur Oise was the subject for at least one magnificent painting, of which a print hangs on a lightpost behind the church. The original is in the Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
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" I Slept Last Night In A Good Hotel . . . "

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While strolling in the Belleville area in the 20th section of Paris the other day with James, we found this well weathered sofa in the rue du Liban. I couldn't resist doing a couple of portraits of it. It looked rather lived in, actually, as though it's owner had just stepped across the street to get a cup of coffee, and would be back any minute to finish reading the paper.
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And I also couldn't resist asking James to do a portrait of me in that illustrious sofa, courageously facing its future life as an outcast on the streets of Paris . . . so this next photo was done by James, he very kindly sent me a copy recently. You can even see him reflected in the window; I guess this post will have to be a candidate for the next Weekend Reflections session.
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As mentioned in the below post, la Grenouille and I had the good fortune to go see the unbelievably good Monet exhibition at the Grand Palais in Paris the other day. This sign showed the way to the entrance.
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As we waited in line to get in to see the show, a gentleman was playing the clarinet outside, in the below zero temperature. The cold didn't seem to affect him though, his playing was a pleasure to hear. I couldn't help thinking of one of my favorite songs, which follows at the end here, where there is a line that goes : "He was playing real good for free..."
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The first line of the song is :
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"I slept last night in a good hotel, I went shopping today for jewels..."
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Very close to the Grand Palais stands one of the finer hotels in Paris, the Hotel de Crillon. Although it is extremely unlikely that I will ever sleep there, I liked the reflection of the holiday decoration lights in the black roof of the Mercedes parked in front. Taken by a simple passerby, who is out here in the street, playing this blog... for free. Guess I'll spend the night on my sofa, rue du Liban, instead. More my style anyway.
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