Soar-Dream-France

A Woman's Place...

 

 

...is in France! Or at least, that was the name of the third showing of my photos in New Orleans shortly after I purchased the Chatette.

My knee-jerk reaction was that this was the first one, probably because it was actually in the Ariodante Gallery on Julia Street.

Pondering further took me back to my showing called the Window on the Lot at a friend's local coffee shop and another showing at a Covington Church that I'm having trouble resurrecting at the moment. Interesting how our minds work!

 

 

 

Even with these photography events in my life, I didn't ever really say the words: "I Am a Photographer!" I'd say things like, "I enjoy taking photos," to almost this very day. 

It wasn't until I decided to enter the competition through "Life-Framed," that it hit me.

I decided to become a member, since the benefits and the number of photos you could enter each month in their competitions were amazing deals.

 

 

 

I'm still learning how it all works, but I have a page that is a public space.

 

 

 

Your banner has your name with one of your photos. Then, next is a spot for a photo of yourself that says: Photographer, and last but not least a description of yourself. 

It was that "Photographer" that got me again. I looked at it a bit.

While I downloaded my photo to that spot, I found myself saying out-loud:

 

"I Am a Photographer!"

What a wonderful feeling! 

Happy Saturday!

 

 

 

Self-Identifying

 

 

I have always loved to write. So much so, that I had planned to go to journalism school until an insensitive school newspaper sponsor decided to remove me from the features page editorship that I loved with no explanation. It all seemed very unfair and cut throat to me. I chose not to go in that direction.

Journalism's loss was Social Work's gain. That didn't stop me from writing. In fact, social work allowed me to become a professional writer and a professional trainer, among many other diverse and interesting opportunities.

I never felt that writing "professionally" made me a real writer. To me, a "real writer" was someone who was talented, creative, AND had published book. I know, that is a very limiting definition. 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn't until I was sitting behind one of the big urns on the steps of the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA) in 1997, that the light went on. I have been journaling regularly since 1997. Beginning your day in City Park when you are working very stressful jobs and long hours, always gave me a great start to those days.

 

It got to where I became a regular and came to know the other early morning regulars.

 

One morning, I was walking back down the steps to my purple truck and a young Rastafarian man who I waved to every day stopped. We introduced ourselves and talked a little bit about what we do and love about the park in the mornings. Then he said it: "Oh, so you're a writer!" I paused. I almost disagreed, but then I said: "Yes, I am a writer!"  At that very moment, it was so!

 

I had a similar experience this week concerning my photography. I shall return to share more of that story with you very soon!

 

 

Happy Friday!

 

French Quartering with the Bruces

 

I often ask what would you do if you only had a day in Paris?

It's a question I often ask about New Orleans too! There is so much to do.

If your company only has a day, you want to be sure to hit the highlights in the shortest period of time.

 

Even though the Bruces had more than one day, I had a couple of other things that I wanted to be sure we did while they were there with me.

 

Our friendship is a story in and of itself, seeded by Graeme's love of my blog.

This eventually led to a friend in common in France and a dinner in Degagnac on the other side of Cahors during the summer of 2014.

Here we were at the Napoleon House in very early 2015.

The Bruces came over from the Florida beaches to see me for a few days, and then headed North back home to Canada.

Who could know that we would have so many more adventures together in our future?

This particular one day was chock full. I rode my bike down to their CBD hotel.

 

 

We were off...on foot!

 

We wandered a bit down Bourbon Street, but then cut over to Royal Street that was much more interesting to them. Jackson Square, artists, shops, the St. Louis Cathedral, the Napoleon House, and Cafe DuMonde for dessert!

I'd already instituted the Best Beignet challenge between the then Morning Call in City Park and Cafe DuMonde in the French Quarter. While both are good, they are very different. I know my preference. Do you have one?

 

 

 

On our way back to the hotel it began to rain, so we ducked into the back entrance of the Monteleone and had a drink at the Carousel Piano Bar to wait for the rain to let up.

As I write, I realize that what we had was a whole day together in the French Quarter, not all of New Orleans!

We actually did more of New Orleans on the green and red street cars together, and stopped for a nibble on St. Charlels Avenue.

 

 

I confess, some of the details are getting foggy, Kind of like the shot below! It might be time for a consultation with Pat!

 

 

Missing the Bruces today! So many wonderful friendships and memories shared that are so much more profound during these pandemic times! 

We're all hoping for that flickering light at the end of the tunnel.

Let's all hope that the WORLD can come together to follow the public health measures, share the vaccine world-wide, get vaccinated, and do our very best so we can travel safely and be up close and personal again!

 

 

Happy Wednesday!

 

Bluer Than Blue

 

 

When I think of "home" in Paris, I think of Monmartre and Rue Montorgueil. Both are areas I have stayed in for extended periods of time. I love them and know them well.

Even if Paris was not my destiny, the Paris dream that did come true was being able to feel at home there.

Over the time of the years of living here in the Lot, I have also had my share of Paris ahas. I'll never forget that Christmas of 2006.

 

 

 

I'd dropped off the final payment to Philippe Jolly for my Monsieur Winkelmann. I was catching the RER to return to the states to close down and repair  Columbus Street after Katrina and then heading to St. Louis to spend Christmas with my family.

 

Here I was, blowing out to CDG on the RER B and it hit me.

 

 

This is my life. 

 

 

Paris is always a treat for me. Even after my ex-pat romance was over and Madam Vera had passed away in '95, I kept returning.

Mom came with me to Paris on that fateful '96 three-week trip. We'd booked a package tour for her time with me that first week.

On the bus to Giverny she asked: "Now that your love affair is over and Vera has passed away, will you still want to come back to Paris?"

I was stunned.

 

 

Paris was as much of a love to me, as was my love for those two people. It had never crossed my mind to stop coming to Paris.

I have always been a person of "place." I fall in love with them and feel them profoundly. That has been the case with New Orleans, Paris and Cadrieu.

Today, I love on Paris, specifically Montmartre.

There is so much to love and feel there.

 

 

 

As much as I can and have shared these places with others, I prefer to do it on my own. That way, the discoveries, love, feelings and memories are not filtered through the eyes, ears and hearts of others.

 

 

I hope you'll enjoy feeling the blue!

 

 

Happy Sunday!

 

A Morning in Cahors

 

 

I never made it to Cahors to meet Wendy at the train station in 1996.

I'd had a three week vacation planned that I was forced to take from my job or lose my annual leave.

I was derailed.

 

 

By the time my train from Barcelona made it to the Spanish/French border in La Tour de Carol, SNCF was on strike.

 

 

Wendy was waiting for me at the Gare de Cahors. She didn't hold it against me. She knew about the strike. Perhaps, it was divine intervention. I decided to cancel Venice. After "laying over" in Tarascon sur Ariege until the strike was over, I made my way to Toulouse where eventually Wendy scooped me up. I spent a much longer visit with her before she deposited me at the Gare de Cahors to return to finish my vacation in Paris. By then, I was hooked on the Lot and Cahors.

 

 

 

I began pairing Paris with Cahors on all future French vacations.

You know the rest of that story.

I've teased and still say today, Cahors, specifically the Gare de Cahors is my launching pad to and from vastly different worlds. 

I am often going into Cahors to meet friends who are coming to visit and sometimes to shop or meet more local friends. 

This particular morning I was meeting a friend from a town on the other side of Cahors from me for lunch.

 

 

 

That meant I had the whole morning, since I had to take the very early bus to get there in enough time.

 

Upon arrival, I decided to head over to the Pont Valentre to visit and take some shots.

Being so early, I was alone. I could wander, take my time, shoot, and get the other side of the Pont that I usually miss.

The reflections were on my side.

I've taken lots of shots of the Pont Valentre over all these years.

I always take my visitors there, but I most cherish our time alone.

 

 

Our morning alone was a gift to me from the Pont. 

 

 

Never forget...there is always more than just one side!

 

 

Happy Saturday!

 

Passing Through Paris

 

Until I bought the Chatette back in 2002, Paris was my final destination. I might wander down to the Lot and stay in Tour de Faure or Cahors with friends, but I began and ended with Paris.

During my early Lot days, Paris became only a "pass through" for me to home in Cadrieu. Recently I realized that I wanted more than a Paris pass through, and found a way to have a little more quality time to reconnect with a place I love and loves me back.

Even though these photos were from a passing through time, I had a whole cherished day with Paris.   

 

 

That evening I had dinner at home with friends before I caught the midnight train to Cahors and the 5am bus to Cadrieu.

Unlike 2014, Sammie Cat stayed with Mike and John that trip so I was a little less loaded down

 

 

 

 

I am always happy in and around St. Eustache. Situated in the heart of Les Halles, it's the first spot from which I discovered I could always find my way if I got lost or turned around.

I also knew that Les Halles had been renovated to a much more modern architecture, which didn't make me happy, but I had to see it anyway!

 

Even after all these years, you still might find me on the steps beside "Ecoute" (better known as the "head" to me) with my map unfolded trying to find my next destination.

Or, I might just throw caution to the wind and wander to wherever I ended up! Paris taught me to be better about that!

This passing through day began with a coffee at the St. Eustache Cafe and a tool through St. Eustache. I wandered around a bit and people watched.

 

 

Went to the post office for international stamps. Had lunch and wrote postcards from a "pub" I'd always seen but had never stopped.

 

Wandered over to the Seine and enjoyed the Vedettes de Pont Neuf river ride, before I made my way to dinner with the Paris Jolly's!

 

 

It was quite a day. I slept in my first class couchette all the way home to Cahors on the train and then the early bus to Cadrieu. 

Happy Friday!

 

The Last of the Four

 

Earlier today, I wrote to my sister that as a group, I believe our family is very caring and passionate about everything. Because we value history, people, places, romance and memories; we don't take anything for granted.

Being people who don't take anything for granted, makes their loss that much more profound. I remembered how after Katrina I would say: Never in a million years did I think ...!

With the virus, that list has grown exponentially! 

 

 

It has also left me asking myself just how much I have truly taken for granted in my life, for which I was totally unaware until it was gone.

 

Will all of this become more valuable upon return, or will it remain a distant and profound memory. Only time will tell.

 

All that said, so many photos stirred memories, but it was a day with my sister in fall of 2014 that grabbed me an pulled at my heartstrings. That was the year that I called my year of 4-4-4. I spent 4 months in New Orleans, 4 months in Cadrieu, and 4 months in Ferguson. 

 

I realized yesterday, as difficult as those 4 Ferguson months were for me, was as wonderful was the quality time that I was able to have there with family and friends. Until now, I was only able to see the difficult.

That day, Kat and I enjoyed the Missouri River from the bluffs of Alton, Illinois. We went to the Grafton Flea Market where our cousin Carol had booth. We took the Grafton Ferry over to Kinder's Restaurant.

 

 

 

I'd been to Kinder's with an old boyfriend, and always wanted to return. That, and a chance to have catfish with Kat sealed the deal! Then, we took the John W. Cannon Ferry back across the Missouri, through the countryside and home.

 

 

What a day we shared. It was a treat then, in the midst of all that was going on with our parents at the time.

It's an even bigger treat today because of how long it has been since we've seen each other, or been able to enjoy an outing and a lunching like this!

We knew it was an important day together then.

It's an even more treasured and important day now!

Here's to hoping there will be more tender and gentle moments like these to share together for all of us!

 

 

 

 Happy Thursday!

 

After St. Pierre Toirac in Spring

 

Having posted this shot of St. Pierre Toirac taken in the spring of 2005, I knew it was a keeper.

Yes, it does look more like a painting than a photo and no, it is not filtered. At the time this photo was taken,

I was using a non-digital camera and the programs on my computer did not allow for adjustments.

 

 

That meant you really had to pay attention to what you were shooting. As much as I noticed that beautiful pink blooming plum tree in the center, I didn't think about it enough to zoom in and try to just get the tree as my focal point. 

 

 

Years later, with all my shots on my computer and programs to adjust and improve shots I've taken; I was able to scan this shot in and play around with it. I have done that with many of my favorite shots from the "old days," except this one I'll sneak in here for you of me during the same time period.

 

 

 

With all the interest in this shot, I thought I'd share some of the adjusted shots with you. While you can certainly filter shots to get that painting look, I find that cropping shots can get it for you as well. The last two shots are filters of the original!

 

Enjoy!

 

 

Happy Tuesday!

 

Cat Joy

 

 

I so enjoy taking photos of the canines and felines who have lived with me over the years.

Sometimes they have been fosters, but usually we have each other for the long haul.

These days it's me and Lola, even though Sam sticks her head in regularly from the other side. This shot I took of Lola was stirred by the memory of one I took of Sammie Cat long ago.

She loved the windows as much as Lola does. 

Lola and I started with the photo on the right.

 

 

 

 

I cropped it twice. Then, on the second cropping, I decided black and white might be pretty. Et, voila!

 

 

And then of course, there's Sam!

Happy Monday!

 

New Appreciation

 

Lola and I have a new appreciation for our double glazed windows beyond their heating pluses. As the sun has been out longer and it truly feels like spring is on the way, she has settled herself into the garden side window beside my bed upstairs. Sam loved it there too. I found an extra pillow for Lola so she could enjoy her surroundings from her special pillow, like the queen that she is.

In all that focusing on Lola and remembering Sam, I wasn't paying a lot of attention to other things.

 

 

 

I haven't been here for the birth of spring since these windows were installed after the fire.

I've bemoaned the loss of my "old" windows that I loved so much, but now...

 

...I'm done.

 

It's wonderful to be warmer, but to be able to see my plum tree blooming from that upstairs window almost totally unobstructed thrills me!

 

 

 

 

I think we have a peaking plum tree.

It won't be long and it is going to leaf.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are going to enjoy it as long as we can.

 

 

I discovered that it's even beautiful in black and white!

 

 

 

Lola and I say Happy Sunday!