The Love Lock Bridge of Paris : Pont des Arts

.
.
.
Writing about the huge collection of padlocks, bicycle locks, small locks, big locks, wide locks, thin locks, love locks, dread locks, goldi-locks which festoon (grace?) the sides of the Pont des Arts in Paris, adjacent to the Louvre, is sort of like writing about the Eiffel Tower.  Nearly every one who has been to Paris any time recently will say, "Been there, done that". 
.
Well, I hadn't been there yet, though I'd heard several times about the locks of love on the Pont des Arts, and also on the Pont de l’Archevêché just behind Notre Dame Cathedral. So while in Paris to go see the Manuel Alvarez Bravo photo exposition at the Jeu de Paume, with la Grenouille, we strolled over to the Pont des Arts to see what all the fuss was about. Rarely have I seen so many cameras out and snapping away, close up and from a distance, at all the locks fastened to the fencing on the sides of the bridge, symbolizing, supposedly, the everlasting love of the people who placed them there. 
.
Not everyone is too thrilled about all the locks and the message they represent. The NYT ran an article in August of this year about the locks titled "An Affront to Love, French-Style". Another article in the Independent relates how the Paris City Hall organised the removal of all the locks, only to see the locks return in even greater numbers after the removal. Personally, I would apply the old dictum, "If it feels good, do it" to the phenomenon. I find this far less offensive than the majority of brainless graffiti that gets painted most anywhere these days. And the variety of colors, styles, and messages makes for some entertaining lock viewing moments, we spent nearly an hour inspecting both sides of the bridge. And honestly, even if imho a padlock is not the right symbol for love, for those who think it is, or are simply having fun, are they hurting anything ? I think not. Some folks are for Rock and Roll, others for Lock and LOL.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
This was the largest of the locks we saw, a sheet metal, bolts, and cable affair, though perhaps not functional. Could double as a chastity device, albeit an uncomfortable one ?
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
Visible here the small park at the tip of the Ile de la Cité where American war protesters were camped out in 1970 when I first came to Paris. (ok, that dates me a bit...)
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
Not only were there locks, but a trumpeter trumpeting out his love...
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
And readers soaking up all those good vibrations...
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
And young lovers... which is what Paris is all about, whether one likes the locks, or not...
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Return to the Future Past . . .

.
.
.
Here are a few more photos from the same site that the photo currently entered in a contest was taken at (see below post, and please vote), out in a stretch of woods in northern France that not many people ever visit, where there are dozens of large sculptures carved in the stone of an old quarry, which date from the First World War. You can also see more pictures of this site here. Sadly, this little known site is out in a remote forest, exposed to the weather, and the magnificent artwork here is slowly but surely disappearing. I'm going back there tomorrow to make another series of photos to help document what's left. Wish you could come...
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Votes Needed Please . . . Still Need 50 Votes...

.
.
.
Would like to ask for your help here in voting for a photo I entered in a photo contest in France, the results of which will be decided by your votes. So if you all take a few moments to vote, I just might have a small chance of winning a prize, and whatever small amount of recognition that may come with it. To vote is easy, just go here and click on "Votez pour cette photo".
.
This photo is from a stone quarry in France that was used as a troop shelter near the front lines during the First World War. Troops sometimes spent weeks there before or after duty at the front, and some of them were gifted artists with stone carving skills. Out of many sculpted graffiti works there, I particularly like this one as not only are the horse and parade-uniformed rider striking, but over them is the silhouette of a large bear. The bear's head is just above the horse's head. Many thanks for your votes!
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
From a long past war to a war going on today, I was saddened to learn this past week that the famous and ancient souk in the center of Aleppo, Syria, was destroyed a few days ago. I posted these two photos from the Aleppo Souk in a previous post, one of several from our trip to Syria in 2007, but am re-posting in memorial to this Unesco World Heritage site which is no more. More about the ravages in Aleppo can be found here or here. When will this madness end ?
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Life Is but a Dream ?

.
.
.
While wondering what to blog about today, this Sunday evening, (am becoming a Sunday blogger only???) not for very long though, as time seems to be in short supply these days, and never have time to think for very long about much of anything, before something else comes along, sweeping the stage of the previous act, and requiring attention and concentration, until the new subject becomes the old, getting swept away in the rapids of each passing moment, each passing day, and don't the weeks and months and years go faster and faster ? Becoming a blur. Is this what life is finally; a passing dream ? The illusion of things we hope to hold on to, but finally we hold on to nothing for very long, before it all slips away, merrily down the stream.
.
But yes, wondering what to blog about today brought me quickly back to the subjects of reflections, and the ongoing growing collection of reflections over at James' place for reflections on the weekend... and the nature of reflections, those ephemeral minor miracles in light bouncing around carrying elusive illusions of images to alight in our eyes, travelling the optic nerve, and onto the movie screens in our brains. How utterly fabulous and magical.
.
Reflections on water, reflections in glass, reflections on polished metal... who could have possibly dreamed up such visual phenomena ? Was just listening to Joni Mitchell sing Both Sides Now in a performance from 1970, and could listen to her all night, taking in the message that there are always more than one way to look at things, clouds, love, life, whatever, and don't miss the reflections off the odd reflecting pools we may come across in unexpected places along the way.
.
It had never occurred to me until just now to type "Reflections" on Google Images to get a sampling of the 172 million results which that search criteria returns, some of them incredibly beautiful.
.
So, this first reflection is in the hemispherical cover of a heating dish for posh hors d'oeuvres at the grand opening inauguration of the new luxury hotel in Chantilly, the Auberge du Jeu de Paume, built with funding provided by his Altesse the Aga Khan. It's been a construction site for the past two years, but finally now you can shell out from between 400 to 2000 euros a night to sleep here. Guess I won't be sleeping there any time soon.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
This next scene is one of several like this decorating a corridor in the hotel, modeled after the "Singerie", or monkey room in the Chateau de Chantilly, which is just a short walk from the new hotel. Note the reflections in the painted ice the monkeys are skating on...
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
An old, (or new treated to look old ?) mirror in a lounge in the Auberge. Am not sure that the horse's head was actually solid silver, but one never knows in a place like this.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
The champagne was flowing freely...
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
And all that just a stone's throw away from the Chateau de Chantilly, caught here in the setting sun, whose light was coming in on a downward slant, bouncing off a window, and reflecting all the more dazzlingly off the water and back to the camera, like a well played billiard shot. Sweet dreams...
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.