Posts Tagged With: tree

“Te Amo”: Graffiti That Just About Sums it Up!

Today will be an art day.   Our feet will take us to the Musée Rodin.  7th arrondissement, art, sculpture, Rodin, Paris, France No doubt The Thinker  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, thinking, 7th arrondissement, museumis pondering when we will arrive but we are in no hurry so we leave Soleil leisurely.  It is always hard to leave her.  She has pretty much everything we need.  The péniche is the epitome of a room with a view.   Even as we walk the bridge we look back at her.  There she is, the only houseboat with a weeping willow on the right bank of the River Seine.  See her?  péniche, houseboat,  7th arrondissement, River Seine, houseboat, heaven

We must past the Eiffel Tower to get to the museum. steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower  The mass of crisscrossed steel (9,441 tons of it) fascinates me and many stops are made to photograph her up close and personal.  She welcomes us.  steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower She amuses us. steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower She holds  our camera lens captive.   steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower She serves as a background to a couple that just got married.  steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower, wedding Seems like a popular location for couples; we saw another recently.

I don’t know how these players can concentrate on the soccer at hand having that structure as background.  But soccer players are fanatical and they pay no heed to anything but the game.  I love seeing it played.   steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower. soccer

But not all is Pollyana.  A middle-aged woman goes through the trash in the park. steel, Eiffel, 7th arrondissement, tower, icon of Paris, Paris, France, tower. garbage picker

We continue on.  A flash of gold attracts our gaze.  9What is that?  It’s the Hotel des Invalides. The dome is quite spectacular.  7th arrondissement, Hotel des Invalides, Paris, France, gold dome, dome, museum, Paris, France So is the structure. 7th arrondissement, Hotel des Invalides, Paris, France, gold dome, dome, museum, Paris, France I wonder how it must felt to enter through such a grandiose door. 7th arrondissement, Hotel des Invalides, Paris, France, gold dome, dome, museum, Paris, France  We sit on a bench and just enjoy the sunny day.  Museum workers are out on their lunch break.  An elderly person on a wheelchair is soaking the sun with his caretaker by his side.

We move on and not much after that arrive at the Musée Rodin.  A column has many stickers on it giving it a festive look.  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, thinking, 7th arrondissement, museum, column Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, thinking, 7th arrondissement, museum, column People that leave the museum get rid of the sticker (proof of ticket purchase) there.  After a bit of a line we enter.  I immediately feel the same thing I did when I visited first, which is a sense – in spite of the crowd – of calmness.  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum,  Out of the bushes comes a new age type of music, an installation by Erik Samakh.  Not everybody’s cup of tea as is noted when a Brooklyn couple that is sitting in front of  The Gates of Hell, Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, The Gates of Hell,   Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, The Gates of Hell,  expresses in a not so soft voice.: F#!x music is morbid!”  I focus on a detail of the door.

This sculpture, Monument to the Burghers of Calais, Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, The Gates of Hell, always draws me in.  Faces in despair. Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum,   Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, The Gates of Hell,  

We go towards the garden Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum,  where on the wall is a scene of the artist at work.  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, garden On a very irreverent note, I am still collecting butt images for a bathroom collection, so since getting real ones to pose is quite difficult and frankly unappealing to me I content myself in taking shots of those that can’t say no.  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum,

A class is in session and I am hoping no one saw me zooming in on the butt of the sculpture!  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, art class  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, Rodin, sculpture, 7th arrondissement, museum, art class

A gelato break before we enter the museum itself. Musée Rodin, Paris, France

Not much commentary from me for a while, just follow along, will ya?

 Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin

The Kiss Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin

The sculptures are certainly the central point but the ceiling captivates me almost as much as the view from those beautiful windows.       Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin  Back to the sculptures.

 Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin Balzac  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin

The Cathedral  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin

And the artist Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin immortalized by others. Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin, painting,   Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin

As I leave, a sculpture made me feel great sadness.  I was going to continue but I came back took a photo and a second look.  Misery  Musée Rodin, Paris, France, museum, Rodin

We leave and I’m back to noticing what is unusual and cute to me.  A gas station on the side of the road.  Paris, France, scooter

Paris’ doors.  Paris, France, blue door Paris’ windows. Paris, France, window, flowers  Another wedding and is that Air France’s headquarters? wedding, Air France, Paris, France  A last look at Hotel des Invalides.  Paris, France

A chance encounter with my favorite bridge in Paris, Pont Alexander III.  bridge, Paris, France  bridge, Paris, France  bridge, Paris, France  bridge, Paris, France

Yep, Paris je t’aime! graffiti

I have mentioned I like this bridge, right?

bridge, Paris, France

But I tear myself away and back into the metro we go.  Paris, France, subway, metro  Meeting with a production assistant for the short.  I wait at a café,chandeliers and capture the “frenchness” of it all.

Parisian café, noisette, bistro, Paris, France

Parisian café, noisette, bistro, Paris, France   If I wasn’t sure where I was, I look out to this monument and a waving French flag.

Paris, France, monument, flag, French flag  I get picked up and as we cross the street I love seeing this couple on a bicycle.  She in the highest of heels.  Paris, France, bicycles, high heels  Paris, France, bicycles, high heels  Instead of going into the subway my stomach starts grumbling and we dive into a Thai restaurant that was actually really good!  Thai Food  Thai Food  After this we cannot avoid the metro but I oh, so don’t mind, because on our walk home this is the sight that awaits.

Paris, France, Eiffel Tower, 7th arrondissement

We hang around the terrace.  It’s a mild night and Parisians and tourist alike are out in full force.  There’s tango at one of the terraces that reminds me of a few friends back home.  They would love to perform/dance here.    Paris, France, Eiffel Tower, 7th arrondissement, tango dancers  Paris, France, Eiffel Tower, 7th arrondissement, tango dancers Paris, France, Eiffel Tower, 7th arrondissement, tango dancers  A photo shoot is being shot.  P1180218 race car  This time the Eiffel Tower takes a secondary part.  It’s the car that is the star.  race car, photo shoot

I feel so content that this is our route to return to our houseboat.  Don’t think I would ever tire of it. carousel, Eiffel Tower, 7th arrondissement, Paris, France carousel We cross the street and the United Nations road reminds me of my dad who worked there for over 25 years.  Eiffel Tower, 7th arrondissement, Paris, France, Ave. des Nations Unies  Back on the quay a little boat at the foot of Eiffel Tower.

Port Debilly, 7th arrondissement, Paris, France, boat,

And before we go into Soleil a last look at Eiffel and our weeping willow tree for the night.Soleil, Port Debilly, 7th arrondissement, Paris, France, boat,

I will sleep with the biggest smile ever.

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Categories: 7th Arrondissement, France, Hotel des Invalides, Musée Rodin, Paris | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Fields of Pain

I wake to no sunset again (at least none that I can capture).  Perhaps it is aptly so, for a day like today.  The Killing Fields.  A confession is to be made:  I am a product of Hollywood and all I can think of when I think of where we are headed next is of a movie I did not see so as not to be depressed.  And now, here I am going towards the real thing and to be forcefully faced with man’s capability to kill, torture, and destroy psyches.  I am bracing myself mentally.

We have breakfast and out the door we go.  Our bus waits in front of the hotel.  A flash of a familiar color attracts my attention and I turn and see my Baby Blue.  Actually not my Baby Blue (aka: my little hybrid, Toyota Prius) but a Baby Blue.  First Prius I see on this trip and it’s exactly the same color as mine.  Suddenly, for the first time, this strong feeling takes over me and I am tremendously homesick.  I’m taken aback by it.  It physically stops me in my tracks.  And then, in matter of seconds it is gone.  As if it had never taken over me at all.

We arrive at the infamous S-21 (Tuol Sleng Prison).  This place, where they executed over 300 people a day, is oddly calming now.  Flowers are in bloom. We are reminded that we are to show respect for what is in effect a burial ground.  

This was not a place of calm.  It was one of death.  Testament that among our race are those who can and will commit horrific acts.

The Chemical Substance Storage Room.  The sign reads: “Here was the place where chemical substances such as D.D.T…. etc. was kept.  Executioners scattered these substances over dead bodies of the victims at once after execution.   This action has two purposes: firstly to eliminate the stench from the dead bodies which could potentially raise suspicion among people working near by the killing fields and secondly to kill off victims that were buried alive.

I am starting to feel quite perturbed.  Thaly, our guide was 10 when it happened.  She tells us of the mystery revolving around what lay within these walls.  Of how her family is one of the few who survived intact.

There are mass graves, some of people without heads, of women and children but in effect the whole place is a burial ground.  We are told that fragments of bones and teeth and fragment of clothes are still surfacing after the floods.

I bend down, incredulous to see it close up.    

And then we reach the “Magic” tree.  There is something horribly wrong about the fact that it is from this majestic tree that they hung loudspeakers to drown the moans of those being executed.     

And that the next beautiful tree we see, is one against which children were beaten. 

I need to inhale a huge breath of air, hoping that the smell of inhumanity and death does not infiltrate it.

We pass by the stupa built to honor the fallen.  

I enter and the different levels are filled with skulls of different age ranges.    The deodorant they use to clean them turns my stomach.  No amount of disinfectant can clean what happened here.  Again I need air.

A mini documentary and some wall inscriptions later and we are on to the Genocide Museum.  The morning is turning out to be one of reflection.

While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all…  

The barbed wire was there so that the prisoners would not commit suicide (the taking of life was to be done only by the executioners and after torture) from the upper floors or try to escape from the bottom one.   

My quota for facing the darkest side of the “human” race and to image the pain inflicted on the innocent is at its max and I tell my group I will take a walk around the neighborhood.

It seems that all my senses return as soon as I step away from the confines of the Genocide Museum. I can feel the sun on my skin, smell the wonderful aroma of coffee coming from a cart that is quite stylish in its “purpleishness”.

But I do not buy my coffee there.  Instead I go to a B&B that I spotted from the bus.   The wall is covered with local art and I think that it has been way too long since I have picked up a brush.  I daydream about painting here.  I sit, I sip, I breathe in life and a smile once again is plastered on my face.  

 

    

The tour has assumed that after such a somber morning people would want to relax.  Their idea of relaxation is taking us to the Russian Market.  But it is a good place to encounter life again.  This market became the foreigner’s market during the 1980’s when most of the foreigners in Cambodia were Russians, hence the name ‘Russian Market.’  The market (aside from not having one Russian item in it) is a busy one and pretty much anything can be found.  I, the non shopper, once again manage to find something that I absolutely need and must buy.      

And, of course, shopping makes you thirsty.

Hello guy… cheap drink here… (They don’t want female business?)

And builds up an appetite, so we return to the bus

and go to a restaurant whose name  translated means Sweet Cucumber.   We have a pretty good meal.

Dessert is taro ice cream, my new favorite. 

At the National Museum of Cambodia we are up close up and personal with history and art.  I buy an offering of flowers –the flowers are as fragant as they come- and I will place it at an altar that moves me. 

The main terracotta building in itself has my attention.  

Ganesh welcomes us.  

And there’s a million shades of green among the leaves in the museum’s garden.   

Which is probably why I decide to present the next photo in black and white as contrast.  

On the way back to the hotel I snap some more photos.    The river flows alongside of us. 

Electrical wires that I do not understand how they are not considered a major fire hazard.  

At the hotel we are left with an evening on our own.  Five of us decide to take advantage that we have a female guide when she announces that she is headed to the salon.  Girls night out!

We walk.  I photograph.  

When we arrive at the local salon, there is only one person there.  She gets on the phone and in matter of minutes helpers arrive one by one on scooter. The salon so reminds me of the ones back in South America.

I have my hair done. Oh, for a full $5!  The girl gives me one of the best massages as she washes my hair.   

The day has ended in the most relaxing of ways.  I sleep like a baby.

Categories: BLT+ (Burma) Myanmar, Cambodia, Phnom Penh | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

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