i'm in the mood for paris

In three short weeks, I'll be exchanging this east coast heat wave for a month in Paris, although the temperatures there aren't much cooler right now. But the delicious excitement is building as I contemplate leisurely days to stroll the city and compare my memories from previous trips.

In 1964, as soon as my freshman year in college ended, I flew for my first time to Orly Airport, with only an undated return-trip plane ticket and a hotel reservation for my first night in Paris. Young and adventurous, I simply intended to go where chance led me until my money ran out -- maybe after a few weeks, if I were lucky. But traveling alone and speaking French made it easy to meet many gracious and generous people who were eager to engage with a smiling American. "Europe on $5 a Day" was my guidebook, but more often I dined with and even stayed with families in Paris, in Toulouse, in Pau, in Cannes, and throughout the countryside.

That adventure-filled summer was my wonderful introduction to France. I have so many stories. Towards the end of the summer, in Marseilles, I encountered a group of American college girls on tour. One girl, so bored with the confines of her tour group, broke off for a day to go climbing with me in the hills above the city. In great style, we toted supplies for a picnic by a rocky stream high in the woods, taking in great views of the sea. In return, she gave me her train ticket to Geneva, since she and her friends had decided to go home. On my early morning arrival in Geneva, I used my trusty guidebook to secure a tiny single room on the top floor of an elegant hotel and went off to find the University of Geneva's Institute of Architecture. As I wandered its large echoing empty halls, I happened on a room where 3 young men were working on their diplome projects. Our conversation covered a lot of territory, although my technical vocabulary wasn't up to par, until one of them broke off to phone his family to announce he was bringing a young American home for lunch. By the time we arrived at his family home, his mother had purchased a small bottle of milk to serve with my lunch, since everyone knew Americans drank a lot of milk. After lunch we all set out for an afternoon on the family sailboat on Lac Léman, occasionally being photographed by tourists on other boats passing by. That night I slept under a feather duvet in my small attic hotel room, greeted at dawn with a rooftop view through my tiny window, and was served my continental breakfast on a silver tray with a rosebud and a copy of the day's paper.

Eventually the summer ran out before my money did, and I returned home the day before my sophomore year began at college. Later trips to France to study and visit were never so carefree as that first summer. The times changed, my responsibilities changed, and Paris has changed. I look forward to making a new photographic record of what I see this time.

surprise auction on eBay

Last week, during our family Thanksgiving celebration, a friend in Germany emailed me some surprising news. He'd been involved in my painting years there and wanted to alert me. An old 1981 exhibition catalog from a group art show called "American Artists in Berlin" (Amerikanische Künstler in Berlin) was being auctioned on eBay. That show had featured 6 young American artists then living in Berlin, including Lynn Bowers, Jimmy Clark, Gary Rieveschl, John Schuetz, Christina Viera, and me. In the eBay bidding window was a two-page spread from the catalog, showing Jimmy Clark's pottery and one of my paintings (both a bit cut off).


Since my painting career preceded the internet access we so enjoy now, you'll realize what an unexpected glimpse this was to see a work of mine online from almost 30 years ago. My large paintings were very colorful, as were the works of the other artists included in the show. But the exhibition catalog, funded by the Amerika Haus in Berlin, was printed in black and white, an indicator of the expense of mounting shows before artists could help their own publicity using home printers and a free and expansive internet. The critical reviews were printed in both German and English, adding another expense.


I didn't bid on the catalog, but I should have. Although my own copy resides somewhere in my archives (I hope), my youngest son wishes he had known in time to buy this one. Although he had grown up in my peripatetic studio, nevertheless he had missed those early years of my career. Already it's hard to remember which of my paintings were in that Berlin show. The large painting shown on eBay was "Femme Nue." I think there was a huge painting called "Berlin Boogie." Another painting, "The Odd Couple," was purchased by the State Department. I hope my records show who bought the rest. I do remember how young I felt then, exhibiting next to Lynn who also had his New York studio, Gary who made vast Lifeforms following his Harvard/MIT studies, and Christina who was probably at RISD when I was there but had already exhibited in Greece, Great Britain, and Italy, while I, as a military wife, simply moved often.  :)
.

old photos

Even after all these years of traveling, it's still fun collecting passport stamps to fill the pages with reminders of where I've been.  As I carefully replaced my passport in its special drawer today, awaiting its next opportunity,  I looked through some of my expired passports in their little pile.  In one passport, I'm pictured with a tired and none-too-happy infant in my arms.  Below is my passport photo from my early 30's, when I was on my way to live in the Middle East -- with three little kids.

The other photo is my younger brother's high school graduation photo, before he became a nuclear engineer.
.

french lavender

.

. . . just outside the door, a bed of lavender and a canopy of grapes . . .

.

old stonework

.

Beautiful old stone walls and stairs outside an old building in Cordes sur Ciel. 

friday foto from france

.

Beautiful colors along the roadside on a walk near Auty.