Every Dog's Dream . . .

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Had just gotten into my car this afternoon after exploring the cemetery behind the wall here. Was about to drive off, when I glanced in the mirror. A flash of red drew my attention, like a bull goaded by a matador. I suddenly had a vision of every dog in the neighborhood stopping by here and lifting a back leg ! Every dog's dream.
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Yes, I admit, it's a bit banal as reflections go. But it will have to do (as in : doggy do !) for today. Now, if you have a dog, tell him or her to come take a look, let's get some tails wagging around the world ! Woof !!! For James' Weekend Reflections... And there is actually a double reflection here, can just see a small splash (that flowing water image again !) of red in the side of the car.
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Family Photographs . . .

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Hi everyone ! See, haven't disappeared from here entirely, but as mentioned earlier, my new mistress Facebook is rather demanding. She keeps requiring gifts of time, and pearls, diamonds, chateaux, sailboats, etc.  So I am struggling to keep her happy. If you want to see what I mean, just open your FB account, I know you all secretly have one, and "Like" my page named oddly enough : "Owen Phillips Photography France".  
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I had to add "France" on the name because there is another photographer who you can find on Google named Owen Phillips in the UK, who does some great work. By strange coincidence he even has the same middle name as me. And is an acoustic guitar folk musician, also like me, if I could go so far to claim the title of musician. That is a fairly large assumption.
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Was able these past days to get out and wander in a few cemeteries. The two photos here are very recent, the first from Gentilly Cemetery, on the south edge of Paris, the second from Pantin Cemetery, the largest cemetery in all of France, just outside Paris to the northeast. A father and his son killed in World War One. A mother and her daughter who died far too young. Why post such images during the holidays ? Well, for me, they contain strong messages about loving those who are close to you, while you can. For time on Earth is often far shorter for many people than it should be. One never knows when one will have to go.
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Happy Holidays to all !  And I'm very sorry to do so, but I finally turned on the word verification on comments, just far too much spam coming in. Am tired of having to delete it all every time I open blogger. I hate Google's bloody word verification, half the time I can't even read the numbers and some of the letters. But the spam senders can't either, so they lose.  Cheers !
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A Holiday Sampler . . .

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For James Reflections Weekend, these first two are from Cologne, Germany, across from the cathedral there. Famous faces. Call me a "reflections papparazzi".
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This next was high up in the tower of the cathedral. People just have to leave a trace of their presence, affirmation of existence. I guess a blog in cyberspace is the same sort of thing ?
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Finally, saw this fading photo on ceramic in a cemetery near Chantilly, France, this afternoon. Born in 1919, she died in 1940, her short life spanning the space between two World Wars. RIP Marie Lousie.
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As mentioned earlier, I admit to spending a bit of time these days on Facebook cultivating my new photography page there under Owen Phillips Photography France, and also looking around at the surprising number of excellent pages produced by people who have similar interests in cemeteries and abandoned buildings, or other artwork in various places.
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Some particularly good sites I've come across in my wandering on Facebook so far are (click the links here to go there, and these are not in any particular order) :
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Historic Cemeteries
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Staglieno Cemetery and More
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Maurizio Ghiggeri Photography
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Jeanne Trend-Hill Headstone Hunter
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Headstones and History
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Charnel Rose Photography
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Abandoned Love Photography
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Ms Misunderstoods Moments
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Dirty Angel Photography
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Abandoned Americana
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Martin Vegas
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And no doubt all that is just the tip of the iceberg. But am still checking in here too from time to time...
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A Small Black Dress . . . Petite Robe Noir . . .

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Very exceptionally, to participate in James Weekend Reflections this week, am posting a photo which I did not take myself ; the Grenouille (Mr Toad's other half) took it last week on her iPhone in Paris. Just across the street from Le Printemps department store. A quintessentially Parisian reflection. Great job, chère Grenouille !
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I must admit, if I'm posting her photo here, in the spotlight of international celebrity and fame to be forthcoming to her, it is partly to calm her tempestuous temper. For she has found out that I have another mistress. She has known about this blog for some time now, my late nights slaking the thirsts of the blogosphere had finally come to her attention. But now, for some weeks, I've been shacking up with Ms. Facebook (or Fesses de Bouc, as some French say), and la Grenouille somehow got wind of it. I suspect Ms. Blogspot must have sent her an anonymous letter. I even dressed Ms. Facebook up with a new public page which can be peeked at here. (though you will need to log in to Ms. Facebook to see it). Now, I've got to run, before la Grenouille catches up to me with her rolling pin and frying pan to do a drumbeat on my cranium.
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Rusty Old Cars . . .

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What is it about rusty old cars that appeals so strongly to many of us ? Is it a nostalgia thing ? Romantic echos of a bygone age ? Is it the unforgettable memories for those who lost their virginity in the back seats of behemoths like these ? Old cars, like old people, reach a point where they just aren't ever going to go any further. Not a mile more. Too many parts have failed. Rust too far gone to ever be cured by a quick treatment of rust remover and a fresh coat of paint to gloss things over. The end of the road. The end, period. And yet, their abandoned bodies call to us still, from the side yards of dilapidated old garages on backwater roads. Still something profoundly beautiful in their fading carcasses.
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Saw these aging beauties on a trip to Pennsylvania a couple of years ago. On automobile license plates in that state they used to print a slogan on the edges of the plates that said, in poor grammar, "You've got a friend in Pennsylvania". When I found these old darlings not far from the Susquehanna River, I couldn't have agreed with them more.
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