Beauty Secrets

I laughed when I saw this amusing Nickolas Muray photograph from the George Eastman House collection. My newly-in-touch friends from Strasbourg asked several things the past two months but often the first (& most asked): do you still roll your hair in socks? Answer: sometimes. So I guess it wasn't so secret...apparently I paraded around with argyles & stripy socks in my ridiculously long hair. (It really works.)

I'll be back sometime this week. Feeling not-so-well. I received some wonderful toys (video-cam, digital binoculars-wow) yesterday; but right now I'm going to draw a full bath & dip into a L'Occitane goody box--almond oil. Yum.

Christkindelsmärik

These are from the so-much-fun Strasbourg Christmas Market, here. (Christkindelsmärik is Alsatian.) Julie continues to wrestle with her ambivalence towards fairy lights, here. You can listen to Mon Beau Sapin, here. Here is Kristin of French Word-A-Day on donner (a mignon Provençal tabby caught my eye). More anon.

Venice in Black & White & November

At the mere mention that high winds are expected later today, the power is starting to go in & out. I'm serious--the wind has not kicked up yet. So here are three photographs by an old friend from Strasbourg days. He took these on a trip to Venice in a November. The little boy's name is unknown. Trying to think how old he'd be now is making my head hurt. Ahem. The photographer & friend (it's not me but I've not asked her permission yet so I'm not showing a third that focuses on her) are very sporting about the pigeons. Bernd claims that he remained unscathed during this shoot. I called him a liar (on Facebook!) & as usual he took massive teasing with equanimity.

Bernd was prescient about taking photos in Venice (& France, Germany, Switzerland) that many of us would value so much later. I hereby apologize publicly for all the times I rolled my eyes when asked to stand still...for a second. Or two. I am now painfully aware of how obnoxious I look when exasperated. See here for explanation...or I'll just tell you. I unwittingly took a video of myself trying to figure out the web camera. It's excruciating but I saved it as a reminder. (Here's a link to a digital library of World War II photographs, including Venice.)

As black & white as these are, I think they are very warm. I like that they are not super-sharp. They are much, much larger in their original print. (Venice in November by Bernd Krause)

Week's End - Off-Leash

You do have a leash, as a writer. You're holding a dog. The great excitement is to see what happens if you let the whole thing go. And the dog or the character really runs about, bites everyone in sight, jumps up trees, falls into lakes, gets wet, and you let that happen. That's the excitement of writing plays.--Harold Pinter

Before I let it fly (maybe, probably, next week) I have to clean up the blog templates, work on headers, get legal advice (kidding). I have to finalize plans to meet up with Ralliers for Sanity (not kidding). I...uh. I'll stop there. Back later.

OK, I'm back. For a minute. I have to post my vote. Have you voted if you're eligible? Oh dude,* if you don't & start complaining on 3 November about Teabaggery...I will so not be there/here for you. (*Pops out of my mouth with a disturbing naturalness.)

Some fun: Mad Men Yourself. Here's my beta-version with a little shout-down to naysayers about political satire rallies. (That newspaper in the hand is rolled up for a teeny light swat.) First they want to call the election before it's held (shrieking curses) & now all manner of pontification about Jon Stewart & Stephen Colbert. What do these nincompoops (no, not S&C, I'll fix grammar later) not understand about political satire?

You know what? Tough. Here I go: I've lived here for um, a long time. The media-punditiocy w/knickers-a-twist? They weren't invited, those sniffy twits. And now, in the name of a bit of sympathy (only a bit)...

Once upon a time, a youngish editor stood outside her office door. She railed to her boss about the "media." Her boss kept trying to interrupt. They were both talented interrupters--they had to be. Finally the boss pointed at the younger woman who said What, what? Boss: "I'm pointing at your press pass."

Oh. Gulp. Slink away in manner of humiliated Snoopy.

(Tim Walker photograph via one million sites & counting; silly me via AMC)

La Luce della Luna {Moonstones}

Adularescence is an optical phenomenon, similar to labradorescence and aventurescence, produced most notably by moonstones. Adularescence is also commonly referred to as schiller or shiller. The effect is best described as a milky, bluish lustre or glow originating from below the surface of the gemstone. The schiller, appearing to move as the stone is turned (or as the light source is moved), gives the impression of lunar light floating on water (accounting for moonstone's name). Though white schiller is the most common, in rarer specimens, orange or blue lustres are produced. --quite by accident I happened upon this...it's punny, but not necessarily funny.--Wikipedia, moonstone gem

There's still a full moon. Looking at a pair of moonstone earrings--with the blue cast--on the desk.

Having a bit of a freak-out by the (to me) overwhelming interest on Facebook...I haven't known these people--save for one or two--in a million years. I lived a different life than they did in Strasbourg (& elsewhere, & since). Not better but so different. Or maybe it's just that I arrived in Strasbourg with a different background & future agenda. I was not innocent or naive, I was fleeing a very difficult family situation in America. Posted cassette tapes, bicycle-delivered telegrams, & even a few phone calls made it clear that I would not escape. I returned to try & fix it as requested. It did not work. I am so sorry that I moved back.

I cannot be the only one who feels this way. Yet, I do not want to offend & really, this could be a positive turn of events. A lot has happened to everyone, I know. I don't discount it. My list, though, elicits near disbelief in people who were here for it, one by one, incident by incident. Also, what kind of judgment will be made about me & my life.

I have looked--off & on for some years--for a person who would understand. It was my fault that we lost touch. By the time I responded to what turned out to be our last letter, it was too late. All the return addresses from a few years of correspondence (from Beirut, France, England, Spain, Costa Rica) were dead-ends & I cannot find her married surname. I'm not an obsessive but in the last 2-3 days this lost friend has become more important. She used to say 'old bean' & take me for tarte aux framboise near Place Kléber when I had no money & I do mean NO money. She was wise about these boy-men. She let me use her Fidji perfume. Pamela, I hope you are in good health, happy, & writing witty letters. Those lucky recipients.

Maybe my boundaries are too strict lately, but others' feel far too fluid--as things stand now. I am not rejecting people outright. Give me a little time please. [I will endeavor to make this more coherent but I needed to post it more quickly than I'd anticipated.]

Update Monday, 1.32pm - I should make it clear, I have some 'esplaining to do. I'm not anti-FB. Someone who means very well got very excited because he's new to it. If not for FB, I would not have reconnected with several people. We were looking for the other for years...& I have very good research skills.

Oh, maybe I'll scoop a bunch of this out & wait. Right now, I have a bunch of FB msgs to look at. I hope they're not mad at me. Let me also be clear that I contacted the person in question & sent him a msg about my distress--most of which has to do with me, not them--before I posted above. It was not a passive-aggressive act, which I loathe......

(photo via Rachel Follett on pinterest, via automatism)

Fresh Flowers for Tough Times

For those of us residing in the State of Penury, here is an excellent idea by Sarah of Blossom and Branch, via Design*Sponge. It's a definite upgrade from our parsley-in-a-creamer. This is Sarah's second post in a twice-a-month series, Flowers A-Z. Take a look, you might be surprised by the ingredients.

That is from Julie's site today. I loved this idea so much that I scooped it up & placed over here. A relief from the gray & watery rumination chez nous.

I've looked on-line but not in the shops for prices per bunch/stem. I sniffed by them in the market in years past. My bad. It's very much bricolage in the French usage sense. Scent memories of cycling & walking past fields of decaying brassica on the outskirts of Strasbourg might have something to do with my aversion. I don't think that classy Design*Sponge would have anything on their site if that were the case. We shall see.

Swan Alone

It relieves people of all that blathering below. Now, I must go make dinner. Fresh produce waits for no one. (Especially when purchased last week. Eek. This is where French cooking knowledge comes in handy. Thanks, Julia!) Natalie Portman in Black Swan via mariakochetkova (dot) com. A landing in the Ill River by somebody3121 on deviantArt. (seriously, 'somebody')

What I'd Be

without you. Racing over here to see "who"? Not yet. On a summer (it still is) play-list, blaring out of a teensy speaker is God Only Knows. Trust me, it's very cool in a mix. Julie swoons every time that song, Bus Stop or Try & Catch the Wind play. She's such a flower child-cat. At the same time, she enjoys the remastered Exile on Main Street. She's super cool in a friendly way & I wish I were more like her.

No, the subject is - what would I be without having flown many years ago, 16 September, at age 17* to Strasbourg, France. (via Luxembourg. Alone, baby, alone.) It's not that I regret our fast communication & info tech. It would have made a huge difference in my life some years later in the Middle East--for the better, possibly saved some lives. I don't pine for the good old days; they weren't always so good upon further examination. Anyway, as nervous as I was, I had to make the decisions on my own. That made me more confident, or at least damn nervier, than most 17-18 year old people today. Listen, I was never going to have much support no matter where I went or lived. (Material support? None. So before I receive more messages of "you had money, you grew up with..." No I did not. (This part is To Be Continued.)

I knew there weren't too many chances in life. If you think that's pessimistic, I would say it's realistic. You get a chance, you damn well better take it. Sometimes you can create an opportunity--but it's not all you, a lot depends on fate (or whatever you want to call it), other people, world events. (BTW, I'm not a fan of taking advantage of another person & calling that an opportunity.) That's why I went to Strasbourg & not to Paris.

Honestly, this whole enterprise is beyond ridiculous without a camera. These because the girl has a tripod & she's dressed in a manner similar to 1970s non-awfulness. (It wasn't all bad.) I wore hats & still do, but I don't think I had one this floppy. The rest are for-real Strasbourg photographs. The second one, it's the real place & it's a pigeonnier, close to the Rhine where I used to walk (approaching it through the other shot, which is a wheat field surrounded by the Strasbourg forest).

I have to break this up into parts. And then fix them. Bear with me. There are lots of great links here & on Julie's blog, Giulia Geranium. The Clever Pup is pondering Paris & has some current, good information on hotels. She researches this stuff to a fare-thee-well...so take advantage of it. Also, Liberty of London Girl's London Fashion Week Survival Kit giveaway is on until Thursday, 23 September. I still don't know if it's only for UK visitors, so enter anyway. It's fun to read the posts in between hideous world news bulletins. For those worried about Tea Party Poopers & assorted lunatics (if not, wow, wake up), The Political Carnival is my favorite place to check in. I rely on Laffy & Paddy to keep my spirits up, too. They are stylish, tweeting troublemakers.

(*soon to be 18 but I still love that I turned 18 in France. I'm hopeless about it, just let me have that, OK? Merci.)

My Business, With the Cloud

There is a new exhibit at the Corcoran Gallery of Art & I will see it (the title is same as post, I'm not that clever). I don't like to say anything until I have done so, but the reasons are vented below. (So you can stop reading if you're sick of venting. However, it is not political venting.) Here's the review in The Washington Post. Update: Really, really click through the first link. Spencer Finch is such a wonderful artist & the little video is well-done.

The above wasn't in the plan (such as it is) but Strasbourg & environs photo searches have made it clear that the new-to-me printer must be installed to scan personal ugly old photographs. Too many online are quite nice--too nice. They do not capture the way it was then; it's too cleaned up, too fancy. Isn't there something between falling apart & overly groomed artifice? Yes, of course.

I inside-my-head shrieked as dishevelled people ambled by an Amnesty Int'l table (where I was turned down more than once by Muslim-phobe liberals & left wingers about petition signing, so there ya go, oof. No one "side" has purchase on idiocy, though it leans heavily...oh I said, no political venting.). I felt a paragon of style in jeans, a clean linen shirt, & sandals. Seriously. My hair was brushed. What is it with Americans walking about in pajamas & disgusting, stinky footwear? I thought, wow, if we were in the poorest neighborhood in Rome, it wouldn't look like this. The junkies clean up more than these people. Believe me, there are a lot of slobs in Rome. But during a festival or on Sunday, people do put on clothes before leaving home.

So it would seem, Haughty Madame, that you are advocating shabbiness in towns, but not people? No, of course not. But some places I lived, visited quite often have spiffed up so much that it's off-putting, sterile. I can almost (almost!) understand people who visit those theme parks (& Las Vegas) & pretend that they're Europe.

There are a couple of good shots of what I want & I'll post those later. Seems that if I write poems & prose (not travel writing) about Strasbourg & Alsace, I'll have a market, if I can create it. (Tim Walker photograph via the Telegraph)

Les bois

I had to put something else up. Too tired to find a poem (much less write one or write an essay/post) on solipsism (not the philosophical theory...the selfish bit). It's been a horrible time in our Silver Spring neighborhood (the Discovery Channel hostage situation).

Odour of Chrysanthemums

The short story title popped into my muddled mind a few hours ago. Snipping herbs & flowers, snapping off a few small vegetables (where I'm house/cat sitting), I sensed a change. Of course, it is late summer & it will be too hot for some time yet. I usually welcome the nearly imperceptible shift, the flip of the switch, to a new season. Not today, though, for all sorts of complicated reasons.

But what-ho? (Too much Jeeves & Wooster this summer. I'll be saying 'pip pip' soon.). A new mini-crisis on the literal horizon to divert me. (That's a good thing.) The entertaining birds in the back garden have cleverly timed the emptying of their feeders for this very moment--oh thanks les oiseaux. Now I'll be awake all night if I can't fill them before I collapse from fatigue (which I am about to do). Oh woe.

Strasbourg-of-the-past is what this twaddle above is about. Some of it anyway. Can you see why I drone on about the-rest-of-France & I-love-Alsace, just from that photograph? I hope so. Paris is grand, yes, but it is not the whole country.

[Strasbourg by thexmunichxromance via deviantArt & for good measure, another flower lady via style(dot)com archives]

Week's End - What a Dream I Had

...that tulle-clad, I rushed across the street & fixed the power grid myself. This is also to acknowledge a lovely man-child (at the time) who made this his song for me (& sang it) when he walked me around the chilly forests of Alsace, often late at night. Also rambles on the grounds of a château, close to the Rhine. Yes, we even heard the Cathedral bells, though not the Lorelei. It's the anniversary of a very difficult day & so I thank him. (Yes, too sentimental. Oh well.) Update: better quality video, here.

Continuing unexplained power outages. No one is telling us/answering our questions.

December Evening in Strasbourg

Christmastime in Strasbourg--in all of Alsace--is gorgeous...best Christmas market in Europe. Absolutely. Also, tarte flambée (flammekueche in Alsatian), vin chaud, & the best of French & German cookies, pies, cakes, etc. I'll be taking flammekueche lessons from a friend's mother who is visiting the States for the holidays. Will try to remember photographs. Here's a little GG post with at least one photo credit.

Leaving the Station

I do miss Strasbourg & all Alsace, especially this time of year. Powerfully.

[photograph by Louis Faurer - 1960s originally via myvintagevogue flickr/no longer available; here is another link]

In the orangerie...

I was potting up a few small plants (from cuttings) & thought for the millionth time since I was a child, oh wouldn't it be lovely to have a small greenhouse, conservatory, l'orangerie? Whatever you want to call it, that's what I thought immediately upon seeing this vintage Vogue 1949 photograph with the palms & other plants in the background. The provenance of the peasant-type top is uncertain but let's say she discovered a bit of Fortuny silk in her steamer trunk & used it for this...(it's 1948 & she's been separated from her belongings during the war). The photo of the old Italian pots reminds me of the smaller ones I have from Washington Cathedral's now-defunct (boo!) greenhouse & potting shed. They made their own pots (I know!)...started by the original Italian stonecutters who moved here to build the Cathedral. It will be awful the first weekend of May without a real Flower Mart since it began in the 1930s. I do worry about Katherine of Tarragon, the resident Cathedral herb garden/greenhouse cat. She must miss her run of the Cathedral & grounds. Poor lamb.

(second photo from Domino Deco file)

L'heure bleue, 2

Also for use later. By reflets de verts in Strasbourg, France where I used to live.