Art For Art's Sake

From my earliest recollections I have loved art. My definition of the word is broad and it includes drawings, paintings, sculptures, textiles, photography, music, literature, architecture, movies, food, nature, and it extends to athletics. It would be impossible for me to tell you how many pictures I have viewed, how many art museums I’ve visited, how many tunes I’ve listened to, how many movies I’ve watched, how many buildings I’ve gazed at while marveling at the design, how many books I’ve read, and how many times I’ve been transfixed while watching athletes deliver an incredible performance. All those experiences have enriched my life, broadened my mind, and helped me develop new perspectives.

Some art has inspired me, while some has repulsed me. I have been left breathless and also speechless…as in, “How did this get accepted to a museum?” I have been moved to tears and have laughed out loud in places where others gave more restrained socially acceptable responses. If there was a Grammy for best musical performance in a shower or vehicle, I might have a few of those on my mantle. Art engages me.

I’ll use a recent trip to Washington, D. C. as an example. Monica and I visited the Smithsonian Museum of American History to see Julia Child’s kitchen. Julia’s medium was food and her kitchen was the canvas. The kitchen was small and the walls were covered with pegboard outlined to show where every pot and pan would go. Lest you think Julia would have nothing but the best appliances, her stove was second hand and all of her utensils were in small crocks labeled with magic marker on masking tape. It was pretty ordinary by most standards and yet this “studio” is where she created masterpiece after masterpiece. Art has the power to inspire.

On the Friday evening before Memorial Day my youngest son, Colin, who works in the D. C. area, and I attended Jazz in the Garden at the National Gallery of Art. The weather was perfect, the music great, and we were just two of the thousands who came to the event. Some folks sat on the edge of the pool and dangled their feet in the water while others lounged on blankets with their families beneath the trees. People were engaged in the act of unwinding from the work week. Art has the power to soothe.

From there we went to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall for a candlelight vigil conducted by Rolling Thunder. Lots more people. Silence. Reverence. Deeply touching. The design for the wall was met with a lot of skepticism and resistance when it was unveiled. The polished black granite inscribed with names did not look like any other of the war memorials. Many people spoke against having it constructed. The artist, Maya Lin, persisted and her supporters held firm. I have been to The Wall several times. It always gets an emotional response from me and each visit I see people reacting in a similar fashion. Fifty years after the war and thirty-seven years after its installation, The Wall still gets three million visitors a year. Art has the power to heal.

At the Freer and Sackler Galleries of the Smithsonian I am treated to the delicate and detailed gold jewelry of Senegalese artists and the incredible needlework on the robes of the Chinese empresses. The craftsmanship must truly be seen to be believed. There is a serious WOW! factor present in these exhibits. I leave in awe of their talents. Art has the power to amaze.

The Hirshhorn Museum calls itself a leading voice for contemporary art and culture and I agree. The first painting I encounter is a large canvas covered with very small numbers. The artist, Roman Opalka, spent the last 46 years of his artistic practice in a single pursuit: to count to infinity. As I walk through another room there is a part of a man’s leg complete with sock and shoe extending out horizontally at the base of a wall. Close by is a large sculpture of a nude, bald, overweight man sitting in the corner. Entering the next exhibit area I notice a metal disc about the size and thickness of a regular McDonald’s hamburger suspended from the ceiling by a nylon line so it is exactly 1/8” above the floor. The adjacent gallery has 8 or so lengths of yarn of red or black stretched taut between the floor and ceiling. Nothing else. What catches my eye is Mark Bradford’s Pickett’s Charge. The artwork spans almost 400 linear feet and encircles all the Third level inner galleries. Going from floor to ceiling the eight abstract paintings are each more than 45 feet long. Bradford used colored paper and reproductions of Philippoteaux’s cyclorama from the Gettysburg Military Park to create the piece. Once the installation was in place, he started to cut, tear and scrape through the layers of paper to reveal textures and complexities just below the surface. I didn’t “get” any of the art in the other exhibits and I’m not sure I “get” this, but it is awesome. I can’t stop looking at it. Art has the power to confound you and hold your attention…simultaneously.

Art is present almost every where in our nation’s capital. Whether it’s statuary, architectural, or the sounds from the numerous fountains, art is rarely more than a stone’s throw away from you. Slow down and count the number of decorative handrails you encounter as you go up and down the stairs. Take a look at the doors and hinges on the old buildings and relish the intricacy of the designs. Gaze at the ceilings and trim while wondering why they are so ornate. Drive through the neighborhoods on Capitol Hill looking at block after block of brick row houses, which, at first glance to be very much alike. Then take a second look and notice the differences in colors, details in the brickwork, unique trim elements, and the many different designs cut into the iron staircases in front of each home. Art has the power to unify and make us different at the same time.

When I was young, I loved to draw. It kept me occupied for hours. The creative process was joyful. Then someone told me I had a talent for drawing cars and cartoon characters. Judgment set in. There was pressure to perform. I had to make my next artwork better than the one before. The joy diminished and, outside of the occasional doodle, I eventually stopped drawing altogether. Today I am rediscovering the joyfulness of creativity. When viewing the art of others I don’t have to “get it.” Other people don’t have to “get” my art. Like all other artists, I just need to keep creating because I need to keep creating. Someone else will have to determine if it’s popular or marketable. Art is for art’s sake.

Interesting Pairings

I’m driving on the outskirts of Bisbee, Arizona late in the afternoon looking for images when these two signs catch my eye. The subject matter surprised me so much that I rolled right by it. When I turned around and examined the signs and the two businesses next to each other, it took a while for it to register. Then, I had to pull over because I couldn’t stop laughing. I wonder how many people have driven by these signs, did a double take, and drove down the road wondering what a self storage mortuary is?

The truth is only slightly less interesting. The mortuary and self storage business are side by side and share a driveway. Still, it makes you pause to see the mortuary with motorhomes, campers, and boats parked next to it. Perhaps the mortuary should put up a sign that says, “You can’t take it with you, but you can park it nearby.”

The Danger of Street Photography

My friend Geraint and I are out for an early morning walk around Las Vegas, New Mexico looking for interesting architectural details and the interplay of light and shadow. It’s going well and the conversation is interspersed with laughter as it usually is when we’re together. On our route there are a number of row houses built close to the street. Some have window sills filled with small items, others have sagging screen doors, while a few have interesting painted designs around the windows.

A window covered in a translucent material catches our eyes. As you can see in the image, the bottom has started to fray and the threads create a delicate design. We create a few images and are discussing composition when the door to the home opens and a woman appears accompanied by two pit bulls. The lady of the house wants to know what we’re doing at her window and the dogs appear to be interested in how we might taste. We have a cordial conversation with the lady and she gives us permission to make more images if we like. The pit bulls aren’t buying what we’re selling. They spend the whole time on their back legs snarling and bumping the frame of the screen door. I expect they are wishing they had opposable thumbs so they could undo the latch.

Today, we’re glad the nice lady had them on leashes and that they didn’t realize they could have pushed their way through the old screen. So much for a leisurely morning stroll.

Chance Encounters

My friend Geraint and I are walking in the business district of Las Vegas, New Mexico near The Plaza when a small cloud of dust and dirt flies out of a door way followed by the bottom of a broom. The man using the broom smiles, greets us, and invites us into his store. His name is Bob Korte and his family has been in business at this location for more than 75 years. They used to sell furniture and appliances. Today, Bob opens the place for about three hours a day when he feels like it. The furniture and appliances have been replaced by bicycle parts and an eclectic collection of things that interest Bob.

There are some baby buggies up front and an antique church organ in the back of the store that opens to the alley. Sitting on one wall is a miniature Maytag wringer washer. Along the side wall leading to the back steps are a series of display cases filled with model cars and other small items. Everything here has a purpose and a story. If you show some interest, Bob will make it worth your while.

I discover that the Maytag wringer washer isn’t a toy. Bob tells me it is a salesman’s sample that is fully functional. It had to be small enough for the salesman to put in his car and demonstrate to prospective buyers. It is an amazing piece of history. I ask Bob about the model cars and he informs me those were all the different cars he has owned…even the vintage Studebaker. He shares a wonderful story about his uncle who loved playing the accordion. The uncle, who was getting up in years, wasn’t satisfied with the accordion that he had or any of the ones that were available locally. He had his heart set on a special one made by the Hohner Company in Germany. His uncle asked Bob to do some research on the instrument. It turns out that they only make a dozen or so each year, they didn’t usually send any to the U.S., the cost was $15,000, and the money would have to be paid up front because it was a custom made item. None of that dissuaded the uncle, who gave Bob the money and let him handle the transaction. The instrument arrived after several months and the uncle was overjoyed. It was all he had hoped for. Bob talked with him a few weeks later and asked about the accordion. His uncle said, “I gave it to a friend who is a really good musician. It was too heavy for me.”

People like Bob make my life richer.

Art in Unexpected Places

I go through seasons of time where I get interested in certain topics…line, shape, texture, etc. and I seek them wherever I go. Lately that interest has been metals of all kinds and in all conditions. Recycling yards have lots of material to work with and that’s where these images were created.

Knowing there were at least two recycling businesses in the neighboring town of Palatka, I headed there to see what they had. The first place I stopped looked promising. I spoke to the young lady in the office about what I wanted, gave her my card, and asked permission to make some images. She said, “That sounds kind of cool,” and told me it was OK. I went back to my car for my gear and was headed back in to the yard when she walked up and told me, “I talked to the owner about what you wanted to do and he said you can’t take pictures here.” At age 69 I had achieved a first…being asked to leave a recycling yard. It’s getting much easier to stay humble.

My next stop was First Coast Recycling and the folks there were very accommodating. Their head of IT, Richard, was very patient and we had a great conversation as he took me around the property. I really appreciate the time he gave me to create these images.

Going in a Different Direction

“A rut is a grave with the ends kicked out.” — Earl Nightengale

It’s easy to yield to sameness, particularly if doing things a certain way has brought you success in some measure. Artists are not immune to it. Singers who have a hit are often pressured by their managers to produce a record that sounds similar to the one that rocketed up the charts. Actors who bring a character to life may spend much of the rest of their careers trying to escape that role to avoid being typecast.

My favorite subjects are people and the details of things. With those two areas alone, I have more subject matter than I have time left on earth. I have discovered that it is good to expand and try things completely removed from what I like to do and where I’ve received recognition. If I stay with the same subjects, I tend to get lazy. I can create good work without doing a lot of thinking…and ultimately that will bring disaster.

For me, the solution is to try something new. Get into an aspect of creation and image making that requires me to think longer and look more deeply before I push the shutter button. Slow down. See more possibilities. Take chances. Break rules. Make mistakes. Have fun!

That’s what I’ve done with these two images. Monica and I ate dinner at a local restaurant the other night. Just outside the door are these glass water walls. As we were waiting for the valet to retrieve our car, I noticed how beautiful the colored store lights were when they were diffused by the running water. After reviewing a few images I made on my phone, I was ready to spend more time there. That’s what I did a few nights later. Each image is unique given the nature of the flowing water and the impact of car lights as they pass by.

I’m still learning to look and happy to be a student.

Thank You, Mrs. Williams

I learned to type in high school, a number of years before electric typewriters, so you can figure out it was well in advance of word processing and computers. We learned on manual typewriters under the unrelenting gaze of Kathro Williams. Mrs. Williams had taught many of my classmates’ parents so as the insurance commercial says, “We know a thing or two because we’ve seen a thing or two.” I’m fairly certain she had dealt with a number of smart-mouthed, sophomoric, recalcitrant teenagers before, but I’m not sure she had encountered so many at one time. Mrs. Williams might have been willing to make learning fun, but we were mostly interested in having fun. Learning was farther down on our list of priorities. What could be more fun than repeatedly hitting your neighbor’s carriage return or hammering his keyboard in the middle of a timed exercise? At that age many of us couldn’t imagine anything funnier.

Mrs. Williams had suffered a stroke a number of years before our class arrived in high school and though it impaired her walk a bit and her speech significantly, she soldiered on. As many teenagers are, we lacked empathy. Rather than admire her will and strength for fighting through her situation, we found great sport in imitating her speech. That she had difficulty in pronouncing her F’s, always produced chortles when she called out the Shift key during our keyboard exercises. We were a sorry lot at that time in our lives.

During the first day of class, she let us sit where we wanted and I picked a place next to Bob Chattin, one of my best friends. We were of like mind…mischievous and willing to do most anything for a laugh. After a couple of classes filled with keyboard chaos and poorly delivered assignments due to sabotage, Kathro had enough and moved us to opposite ends of the row where we sat. Smart move. Things quieted down after that and we got on with the business of learning how to type. I liked learning a new skill and took pride in getting progressively better; eventually reaching 55 words per minute.

Because some of the typewriters were newer than others, Mrs. Williams would move us to another machine every few weeks. As fate would have it, Bob and I ended up next to each other the last week of class and it only took a few minutes for the hijinks to resume. Upon hearing a commotion, Mrs. Williams looked up to see me pulling Bob’s paper out of his typewriter. She walked toward us with a look of deep disappointment and said, “Now, Donnie and Bob…just can’t have you boys sitting together.” Since I was the perpetrator, I got banished to the end of the row again.

Despite my attempts to correct her and the fact that my name was spelled properly in her grade book, Mrs. Williams insisted on calling me Donnie…and it bugged me a lot. Of course, all my buddies would kid me about it. I think Kathro was having a bit of fun with me and she found a soft spot. It would be good to know she is sitting in Heaven with many of my other teachers having a good laugh about it. Of all the practical things I learned in high school, typing is what I have used the most in life.

Thank you, Mrs. Williams. Lord knows I didn’t make it easy for you.

Working For A Living - Steven Lucero

My good friend and fellow photographer, Geraint Smith, and I are enjoying a drink and some potato chips in the train station at Lamy, New Mexico, population 218. Lamy sits on the outskirts of Santa Fe and is best known for the restaurant sitting across the street; The Legal Tender. Sitting inside the waiting room of the station, it is easy to imagine being there during the heydays of train travel and the baggage carts outside the building are a reminder of those times. The back room of the station has been converted to a bar and the nice lady managing the station fills us in on her plans for the property. It doesn’t take long to figure out she has experience in ventures like this. Before leaving, she says, “As you cross the tracks, look for a big yellow metal building on your left. Stop in there. It will change your life.”

While she didn’t say how it would change our lives, Geraint and I decided to take the risk. As we turn off the highway and descend the long gravel drive the first thing that strikes me is the contrast between neatness of the beautiful traditional New Mexico home with a walled courtyard and cluttered area around the large structure we are about to enter. Lined up on one edge of the property are several vintage Jeeps in need of some TLC. There are ample quantities of wood and metal in other places that tell you there may be some serious work taking place inside.

As it turns out, the inside of the shop looks a bit like the outside. There is a lot of stuff, but it all seems to have a purpose and you can wend your way from one spot to another without any trouble. We introduce ourselves to Steven, who is crafting a set of fireplace tools. He has a quick smile and is very generous with his time. Steven’s work bench is covered with the tools of his trade; gloves, tongs, and brushes. Hanging on a bar beneath the bench are fourteen hammers and there are at least seven more on the other side. It is the most hammers I’ve ever seen in one place outside of a Home Depot. Steven assures me that each one has a particular use. I ask him about the two anvils next to the workbench and he smiles saying, “I named the anvils after my ex-wives.” “So, you’ve been married a couple of times?,” I asked. He smiles again and says, “Well, I’ve recently sold a couple of my other anvils.” We both laugh.

Steven refers to himself as a blacksmith, but I prefer the term forge artist. The artistry shines through in the items he showed me. I love having the opportunity to meet new people in my travels. Chance encounters have often turned out to be the richest experiences. The lady at the train station had it right. It was a life changing experience and I never expected it to happen in Lamy, New Mexico.

Name: Steven Lucero

Job Title: Blacksmith

What do you like most about your job? The finished product. My workplace is dusty, dirty, and hot, so you have to overcome a lot to get projects finished.

What’s the hardest part of your job that no one knows about? Getting up in the morning and getting to the shop.

If you weren’t doing this work, what kind of work would you be doing? Traveling and taking pictures. I love being outdoors, driving, hiking, and fly fishing.

If you could go back in time and talk to yourself at age 16, what would you say? Stay away from the ladies. They will sidetrack you.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given? Persevere. Stay at it!

Art At Our Feet - Part 3

Some days it is more difficult than others to go on my morning walk. Today was one of those times. The sky was overcast, it had been raining, and more was in the forecast. Still, I decided to take advantage of the break in the weather and keep my commitment. I don’t know from where the reluctance comes because getting outside and having time with my thoughts is always pleasurable. It’s where a lot of my best ideas have been generated. Still, there’s a voice that tells me it’s OK to take a day off. Given that I know how much benefit I’ll derive from the outing, it should be much easier to tell that voice, “Shut up!”

Today, health and creativity triumphed. I found this composition just a couple of blocks from our home. The rain made everything glisten and the overcast sky made the red winch really pop. A lot of things had to line up for this image to get created and it all started with honoring the commitment I made to myself.

Art At Our Feet - Part 2

This is an item whose looks change with the position of the light and whether it’s in color or black and white. I chose monochrome because it looked more dramatic. The interesting thing is I had walked by this scene for at least three weeks and thought there might be something there to create, but just never got the right angle or the light I wanted. Today, it just screamed, “Take my picture,” as I walked by. I stopped and obliged. Then I lingered as the light changed. That moment of pausing led to moving the items around until I came up with this image.

It reminds me of an extreme close up of a record album whose grooves had been warped by the heat. I doubt the folks who manufactured and packaged these rolls of weatherstripping saw them as objects of art, but I did…though it took me a while. I encourage you to keep looking for beauty in the small things. The discovery is more than worth the effort.

Art At Our Feet

I read a Ghandi quote the other day that I like very much, “There is more to life than increasing its speed.” I’ve been taking time to focus on my surroundings for a number of years, but I find retirement has given me the luxury to go into super slow motion at times and really examine my world more closely. Beauty is all around and it’s nice to find it in the small things.

There’s a lot of construction in our neighborhood and I’m always curious about what features are being put in new homes, so I occasionally do a quick tour while on my morning walk. On this day, I was rewarded with a bundle of nails casting a great shadow.

Paris - Part 2

Paris is a fascinating place and Parisians seem to avoid being boring like the plague. One does not want to be seen as “ordinary,” so they find ways to set themselves apart while being immersed in the cultural fruit salad that is Paris. Fashion comes to mind immediately and that is certainly on display everywhere. I have never seen so many different styles of eyewear. But there’s more to individualism than one’s wardrobe. It’s also in how you get from place to place. Not just cars, buses, and motorcycles, but scooters, bikes, unicycles, skateboards, and battery operated uniwheels. The jury may be out, but my vote goes to Parisians for their transportation oneupmanship. With the population coursing along the veins of the city like so many well dressed red blood cells, people still find ways to carve out a little space for themselves like the fellow in the first image.

With Paris being the city of love, it is not surprising to find places where people express their undying affection for their partner and one of those places is the Ponts de Arts Bridge featured in the second photo. What started out simply enough by two lovers has quickly mushroomed into problem for cities across the world. After sustaining damage to the bridge from the weight and weathering of the locks, Paris officials have the locks removed at least once a month. Your love may be forever, but that lock with your initials is gone in 30 days.

Part of the charm of old cities are the narrow streets and the buildings crowding them. Paris has those in abundance. In order to make transportation work here concessions have to be made. Cars are smaller. Street maintenance vehicles in Paris are the size of clown cars in the U.S. People are gifted at parallel parking and because there will always be bozos who want to pass you on the passenger side, city fathers have installed posts to prevent these jerks from going up on the sidewalk.

We took in part of a mass at Notre Dame cathedral and beauty of the soloist made the hair on my arms stand up. No matter what your beliefs are, it would be hard not to be moved by the music. The structure lived up to its billing, though I have to say I was more in awe of Sainte Chapelle, featured in the fourth image. The term “jawdropping” gets overused, but it is an apt description of this small chapel. When we came through the door the place was jammed and everyone was looking up. It is visually stunning, well maintained by the staff, and worth twice the price of admission.

Going through small shops and talking to the owners is something we enjoy. While strolling on our last Sunday in the city we came across Anatolie Kilim, a small rug store. It was closed, but with all the gorgeous things we saw in the window, we made plans to come back the next day. The owner, Enbiya, has the place filled to capacity with neatly folded kilims of various sizes and colors.  He learned the business from his father, but went out on his own due to friction in their relationship, which has healed over time.  He travels regularly to Turkey and gathers his inventory by visiting villages.  Enbiya spent a lot of time explaining the weaving process and the symbolism of the figures found in the kilims. As Enbiya worked with us he was constantly moving his glasses off the bridge of his nose up to his forehead, so I decided if he would get in front of my camera that would be how his portrait would get created. We were looking for a rug for the entry of our home and it would have to be long and narrow. Enbiya searched his inventory and found one that fit our dimensions and it perfectly complemented the color palette of our home. It was the only one of its kind in the store. Go figure. Enbiya made purchasing the kilim a joyful experience and our interaction with him made our trip just a bit more special.

The Pompidou Center is the home to one of the largest collections of art in France and while not shown in the photograph, it is best known for being an “inside-out” structure with conduit, vents, and all kinds of tubing on the outer walls of the structure. It is also a great place to view the Paris skyline and it is where this image of Sacre Couer was created.

As we made our way back to our hotel on our last evening in Paris, we were treated to a wonderful sunset over the Seine as a barge made its way up the river. I’ve been on some great trips, but was always ready to return home…until now. We had such a wonderful time that we could have stayed for another two weeks.

Paris

Musee d’Orsay

Cafe Society

Distinctive Doorway…one of many

Typical Stairway in a Paris row house

Pedestrian Tunnel Along the Seine

In planning our trip to France we decided to have a more structured time in Normandy and Paris would be seen at our leisure. There was no schedule and no agenda. Our only goal was to have a romantic getaway doing what we wanted. I highly recommend it regardless of your age.

You can find whatever you’re looking for in The City of Lights. We chose not to listen to the negatives and focus our energies on finding the beauty and fun available outside our hotel room. There was plenty of it and it was easy to find. Staying on the Left Bank in the Latin Quarter made everything easily to reach. Our hotel offered a great complimentary breakfast, a complimentary bar in the evening, and a comfortable lounge with a large fireplace…great locations to start and finish the day.

Each day over breakfast we picked a location and walked as much as we could to see what different areas of the city had to offer. If something interesting showed up on our route we would check it out. Since you’re never far from a restaurant in Paris, we would frequently stop for a drink or a snack to enjoy the atmosphere of the bistros. There is so much interesting architecture in the city, I wished my head was on a swivel. Archways, doors, knockers, and gates are ever present and many are unique. We loved all of the international restaurants and the unique passageways through the center of some city blocks that were lined with little shops and great places to eat. You want to have dinner at an Italian restaurant located in a basement courtyard? No problem. It’s 6:30 and you want gelato at the coffee shop down the street that’s open until 8:00? That’s a problem. While you can get coffee prepared in a multitude of ways, thirty-six varieties of flavored teas, and all kinds of chocolates, gelato is not sold after 6:00. The explanation for this house rule got lost in translation so the problem was solved with American ingenuity. We went to the market around the corner, purchased two pints of our favorite flavors, and retreated to the hotel lounge to consume it in front of the fireplace. I think our disappointment disappeared after the second spoonful.

No one day was better than another. They were all wonderful. Walking along the banks of the Seine holding hands with the person you love is the best.

Monet's Garden

I’ve always enjoyed art and I have a soft spot for the Impressionists, so I was really looking forward to a visit to Monet’s home in Giverny. I was familiar with a lot of his work and had seen photos of his home and the grounds, so I felt prepared for the visit…but I wasn’t. First, there were a lot more visitors there than I expected and they came from all over the world. The nice weather had them filling up the narrow pathways through the garden and almost every good view was blocked by groups of self-absorbed young ladies taking selfies. Patience prevailed and I was able to get enough good images to provide a flavor for this wonderful place. It’s also much larger than I expected and crammed with all different types of flowers that create an explosion of color. I don’t know how the gardeners select what varieties of plants to place next to each other, but their process is masterful. It was the last week of September and the place was as lush as a jungle. You almost felt the need to keep moving in order to avoid being caught by the tendrils of some rapidly growing plant. A truly gorgeous place and worth the effort of dealing with the hordes of tourists. Next time, I’ll get there before they do.

Honfleur

Honfleur Harbor

Harbor Reflections

Honfleur Sidestreet

On our last day in Normandy, we persuaded our guide to let us spend a good part of the morning in Honfleur as our short visit the day before just didn’t do justice to a place of such beauty. We were blessed with a clear, sunny morning with just a slight breeze. Honfleur is located on the southern bank of the estuary of the Seine across from le Havre and is known for its beautiful old port. Lined with houses with slate fronts, the waterfront provided inspiration for many painters including Claude Monet, Eugene Boudin, and Gustave Courbet. It is a wonderful place to sit with a beverage and just get lost in the environment. Though the town is small, I would happily return for two or three days just to wander through the shops and spend time on the waterfront.

Rouen & Jumieges

The Booksellers’ Stairway - Rouen Cathedral

Jumieges Abbey

Jumieges Abbey - Detail

Rouen is the capital of Normandy and located on the River Seine. Being a port city, Rouen received its fair share of attention during WWII when more than 45% of its buildings were destroyed. It has recovered nicely and the medieval section of the city with its half timbered buildings is well worth seeing. There are few places in the world where you can eat in a building dating back to the 1400’s and only one where you can look over the square where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. You can do both in Rouen.

The Cathedral of Rouen dominates the city’s skyline and is an architectural marvel. I suggest bringing along binoculars so you can see all the details in the structure. Flamboyant gothic is the style, with an emphasis on flamboyant. The cathedral with its three towers inspired Monet sufficiently that he made over 30 paintings of the church. One of the towers is called the Tour de Beurre (The Butter Tower). In the Middle Ages, the consumption of butter was forbidden during Lent, but people could bypass the rule in exchange for a donation to the church. Evidently the people of Rouen liked their butter enough to finance a very impressive structure. The interior is grand with the best examples being the Booksellers’ Stairway and the rose window and organ located near the entry. The church also contains the sarcophagi of Richard I and Rollo, the Viking king whose success at fighting the Franks led to the creation of Normandy.

We left Rouen in the early afternoon for Jumieges and its wonderful abbey, sometimes called “the most beautiful ruin in France.” Located on one of the meanders in the Seine, the abbey was founded in the 7th century and is an excellent example of Norman Romanesque architecture. The weather was sunny and cool, which made the stroll around the grounds just a bit more wonderful.

Calvados and Beuvron en Auge

L’ Eglise Saint Martin

Our guide started the day by taking us to a chateau owned by her relatives. Both appeared to be in their late 70’s and the lady of the house was an avid gardener. They were a delightful couple and, upon discovering we were Americans, made a point of thanking us for what our country had done for France in WWII. People here have long memories and continue to be deeply appreciative to those who made sacrifices on their behalf. It was very touching.

We spent part of the morning driving through the Calvados region, which resembled farm country in Illinois and Indiana. There are quite a few dairy farms here, but this part of Normandy is noted for its apple orchards and its potent cider, which is named for the region. We stopped in the country and walked down a long lane before arriving at the small chapel featured in the first image. Unfortunately, it was locked and all we could do was peer in the windows.

After that, it was on to the town of Beuvron en Auge, which is often described as one of the prettiest towns in Normandy and we saw nothing to dispute that during our visit. After lunch we wandered around town and enjoyed the architecture. The Eglise Saint-Martin is a wonderful small church with a fascinating cemetery surrounding it. Decorations on graves in France are distinctly different than in the U. S. and we discovered that plots are not owned in perpetuity, but leased for a specific time period. Once that lease expires, it is up to the family to renew the lease or the plot will be leased to someone else. We didn’t find out what happens to the remains. Just a different take on death than we have.

All in all, a very nice day and a deeper immersion into the culture of the region.

Working For a Living - Bill Poplin

It’s about 10:15 on a rainy Saturday morning and I’m driving around Lake City, Florida looking for something that will create an interesting image.  When I see a building with a weathered exterior, I start looking for a place to park and pull my car in next to a small antique shop that doesn’t open until 10:30.  After getting a couple of compositions that look good on the back of the camera, I walk back to the car.  Just as I’m putting my gear in the back seat, the door on the antique shop opens, a man emerges, and strikes up a conversation with me.

As it turns out, Bill is a rather engaging fellow.  Pretty soon our discussion has moved from the parking lot to the inside of his shop, which is pretty much filled to bursting with smaller antiques and many of those are rings and necklaces.  We talk about retirement.  Bill was a professor at the local community college for 30 years and opened the antique shop to supplement his income.  We discuss travel.  Bill and his wife have done a fair amount.  We chat about overseas mission trips we’ve taken and the benefits we received from those ventures.  The topic of children and grandchildren comes up and the conversation continues.  We cover the merits of living in Florida versus other states and agree it’s a pretty good place to be.  At some point the topic of mortality gets raised and there’s something else we have in common.  Cancer.  Bill’s wife had a very serious reaction to chemotherapy and it was touch and go for a while.  She’s bounced back and they are quite involved in music with their church; she plays the organ and he leads the choir.

When I asked Bill if he ever thought of getting a larger place his response was, “Yes, but I decided against it.  I knew I would just fill it up, too.”  It’s always time well spent conversing with someone who possesses great self awareness.  If you happen to be in Lake City, I highly recommend stopping at Duval Cottage Antiques to see what he has on display.

Name:  Bill Poplin

Job Title:  Shopkeeper

What do you like most about your job?  I find it hard to pick between the old things and people, but I think it is the old things that bring us together.

What is the hardest part of your job that no one knows about?  Pricing things.  It’s not always fun.  My prices are based on observations…what the local market is and what I paid for it.  If someone asks if I can do better on a particular item, my answer is, “Probably.”

If you weren’t doing this work, what type of work would you be doing?  I have a property rental business on the side and I would focus more on that.

If you could go back in time and talk to yourself at age 16, what would you say?  You will encounter difficulty in life.  Never, ever give up.  Keep your faith.  You are not alone.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?  This came courtesy of my grandmother.  “Scratch it if it itches, even if it’s in your britches.”

Bayeux Highlights

Cathedral vaulted ceiling

The Cathedral of Notre-Dame in Bayeux dates back to the 11th century and though not the oldest or largest cathedral in France, it is stunning! It was consecrated in 1077 in the presence of William the Conqueror, king of England and Duke of Normandy. Another must see is the Bayeux Tapestry, which was kept in the cathedral until 1793. The tapestry is nearly 230 feet long and 20 inches high and depicts the events leading to the Norman conquest of England and culminating in the Battle of Hastings. That it has survived over 950 years is amazing and its clarity and detail must be seen to be believed. Kept in a light and climate controlled chamber, photographs are not allowed, but there is a wonderful narration on each of the 50 scenes. I just don’t have enough superlatives to describe what a fascinating piece of history it is. Bayeux was also renowned for its lace and there is plenty on display in windows all over the city.

The Joy of Experiencing New Places

We like to take at least one “big trip” each year and last year it was two weeks in France split between Normandy and Paris. Monica had visited Paris several times, but this would be a first for me and neither of us had been to Normandy. We did a lot of research in creating our itinerary and had the help of Chantal Littleton, an outstanding travel planner suggested by our friends Rod and Pat Cochran. After some clarifications on what we wanted to see and how we wanted to experience the country, Chantal created a schedule that met our wishes. We decided to go at a leisurely pace and experience the places more deeply. That was a great decision.

Though France is a popular destination, feedback is decidedly mixed and travelers’ opinions vary. People tend to love the sights, but comments about the people often terms like rude, haughty, and aloof. We experienced none of that and can say without reservation that our trip to France was one of the best vacations we’ve ever taken and we were treated with kindness and helpfulness in every location we visited.

Our first few nights were spent near Bayeux, not far from the D-Day beaches. It is a beautiful city that was spared from the bombings during the invasion. As our guide walked us along the narrow streets and the old homes explaining the history of the city, we were taken in by the beauty of flower boxes in nearly every window. At the end of the day, the lady who selected our guides and arranged our transportation invited us to her home for tea and cookies. It is one of the oldest structures in the city and featured a watchtower complete with a very narrow winding stairway, quarters for the guards, and slits for bowmen. The hospitality we were shown more than made up for the less than desirable weather.