Tour de l'Horloge~Missing Paris Day

Part of the Palais de Justice near the Seine,

 Paris' first and oldest public clock

was installed in the 1300's. 

One source cites that the bells of the clock 

rang continuously for 72 hours 

for each royal birth and death. 

Talk about a royal pain! 

(Sorry)

I love the ornamentation that has been added over the centuries.

It reminds me of the Astronomical clock in the Old Town square in Prague.

This one would be more fun to look at sitting in a cafe chair 

on a busy plaza sipping something frosty or piping hot,

admiring for hours in relative comfort

like one can do in Prague. 

The bells have since been de-chimed, so to speak. Shame.

The original bell was melted during the Revolution

and the clock itself restored several times.

Part of the fun of the clock in Prague is watching 

the figures twirl and dance every hour,

performing their 'Walk of the Apostles',

sort of like watching the Eiffel Tower

twinkle on the hour in the evenings.

The clock itself is flanked on either side by Law and Justice,

a royal monogram at the top, 

angels attending and 

rams looking on. 

Imagine, for those of the 14th century not used to the sight of a clock on the street,

the daily parade past as its newness became slowly worn.

Oh to be a passerby on the day it was finished

with a glimpse of who was in attendance, 

the clothes they wore, 

the language of the time spoken. 

Pun intended.

Nurture selfless thoughts~ Buddhist Thought for the Day

"We are formed and molded by our thoughts. Those whose minds are shaped by selfless thoughts give joy when they speak or act. Joy follows them like a shadow that never leaves them."
-- Buddha

I've been creating my own little Japanese garden space and the more I add to it, the more joy it inspires. Yes, a little messy, off balance, not quite like the prototypes...but that's because it's made by me. Some might easily recognize these traits. All I know is when I sit on the boulder just across the patio and stare at it, I find myself in a meditative state with a smile. And joy. 


Today, nurture selfless and joyous thoughts. Who doesn't want joy shadowing them?! 

La Friterie~Missing Paris Day

Happy Monday!

I must admit that while I have admired these buildings for years,

I've never tried the Frites here. 

As you know, I am a sucker for those Medieval timber houses--anywhere. 

I have found a few others in Paris but not many. 

Hard for me to picture them being built 

right on the bridges as they used to do. 

Don't you love how they are just squeezed right in between the two bigger buildings?

Someday I will set foot inside one of them and ask to look around.

If you don't recognize them, they are just around the corner 

from Shakespeare and Co. right in view of Notre Dame. 

Wishing you a fabulous week

and Happy Columbus Day! 

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Quote of the day: Live the Questions Now

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” 

— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet


Reminds me of one of the quotes from Steve Job's 2005 commencement address at Stanford, excerpts of which are being aired everywhere right now:

"Trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future..."


Sad to lose such a remarkable person so young in life. And to me, still so unbelievable that even all of the money, fame, ingenuity in the world cannot stop cancer from taking any and all.  I guess one thinks that with billions, there must be a way the rest of us aren't aware of. And yet there isn't. But what astounds me most? Why isn't there? How is it possible that there's still no cure?

R.I.P. Steve Jobs.


(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Sub City Paris~Missing Paris Day

Happy Monday everybody! 

A friend sent me this link which I thought you might enjoy.

(Sorry I couldn't bring in the video itself to make it easier to watch.)

It's a short video made to music of Paris metros

along with Parisians going to and fro. 

curiosity counts - From the fine folks who brought us Sub City New York, Sub City Paris-Cinematic Poetry for Urban Life.

Now I want to see the Sub City New York!

Thanks, V!

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Touching Life and Deeply Alive~Buddhist Quote

"Only in the present moment can we touch life and be deeply alive." 

~Thich Nhat Hanh

This is the quote for September
in my Thich Nhat Hanh calendar
and on this last day of the month, I'm sharing it with you.

I've been rereading (and listening to) Eckhart Tolle's
'The Power of Now' 
and the exquisite truth to this touching life and being deeply alive quote
is sometimes very hard to grasp.

We spend an inordinate amount of precious time in our lives in the past and the future,
in some way always focused on some conversation, slight, or fun or unhappy experience long since passed.
Or else we linger, dwelling in positive or negative anticipation of some future event.
I even find myself having future conversations in my head,
words I have yet to speak with someone (usually when I'm angry).


I've always wondered why certain childhood memories are so powerful
and why I so strongly feel the need to be with them again through mind or travel.
As I do more meditation and TRY to spend more time in the powerful present moment,
(they don't call it a Practice for nothing)
I think I've realized that those childhood memories are so commanding
exactly because, at that time, I was so alive with the present.
Nothing else mattered but that moment, that beauty, that light-filled meadow
because I was so deeply in the present moment with no other worries.
As adults with so many responsibilities and commitments, vows, pledges and promises,
we learn to function constantly in a multi-tasking frame of mind,
always concerned with what we've done, said or must do.

Meditation allows us, even if just for a few brief moments during the day,
to be free from the overwhelming, manic, monkey-mind that constantly plagues us.
Just for a few minutes today, while you're sitting (or standing- anytime, anywhere),
stop the chatter of what happened or what's to come
and focus on your breath.

"In, I am breathing in...
Out, I am breathing out."

Tomorrow, give the breath just a few more moments of precious time-free time.
Keep extending it just a little longer.
Or do it a few more times.

And watch what happens to your body, your surroundings, the people you come in contact with.
Make this very moment as powerful as your greatest memory.
Like a child,
touching life and deeply alive.

~Photo from Pinterest~

The Six Continents at Musee d'Orsay~ Missing Paris Day

This photo, taken along the esplanade next to the Musee d'Orsay, 

shows six allegorical statues created for the 1878 l'Exposition Universelle (Paris' third World's Fair).

They are known as The Six Continents. 

The first one, closest to us, is l'Europe

sculpted by Alexandre Schoenewerk. 

The next is Alexandre Falguiere's l'Asie.

Then Eugene Delaplanche's l'Afrique.

Ernest Eugene Hiolle's l'Amerique du Nord.

Aime Millet's l'Amerique du Sud.

And Mathurin Moreau's l'Oceania (Australia).

It's difficult to fully see each of them and their stories here

but by clicking on the continent's names above, you can see them close up and straight on. 

I love the painter's color palette on Europe's left (not seen here)

and the elephant behind Asia, the cornucopia held by Africa, the American Indian-look of North America,

and the kangaroo next to Australia. 

According to the Musee d'Orsay's website,

the statues were originally created for the Trocadero Palace at the Exposition

and had been lying in the Nantes public dump since 1963.

The Musee d'Orsay exchanged a Sisley painting for them 

which went to the Musee des Beaux Arts de Nantes. 

Imagine these beauties, representing our world continents,

lying in a city dump! How does that happen?

Someone had to go to great effort to get them there. 

Oh, the geniuses of the world! 

Museo de Orsay
62, rue de Lille
75343 Paris Cedex 07
France

(Photograph copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Rouge pour ma Grandmere~Missing Paris Day

(Montmartre window)

Red was my grandmother's favorite color... 

(Paris produce market)

...especially this deep, sweet, gorgeous red. 

She wore dark red lipstick on her plump, naturally maroon lips, 

planted red geraniums and wore red scarves.

A couple of years ago I had a dream about her.

She was trying to tell me something but I couldn't hear her.
She became more and more agitated,
had to make me understand because 'some people are coming'.

A short time later I called my aunt.
She'd had a similar dream.
Called my sister.
Same dream. 

(Montmartre cafe table)

Whatever the message was,

it was never received.

After the dream, I drove by the old house

and noticed a pink construction permit posted outside.

Was she trying to tell us she'd stashed a load of cash in the wall

and wanted us to know before the new owners found it?

I've been in touch with them.

They never said a word. 

Or was she just calling to say

Je t'aime?

(Tomorrow would have been her 97th birthday!

Bon Anniversaire, Grandma!) 

(Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Ticket to Write

I've been back this week at Colonyhouse, 

the Oregon Writers Colony Retreat in Rockaway Beach where I go a couple of times a year.

Here Life takes a back seat and writing, center stage. 

Last year, my writing partner sent some of my Colonyhouse photos to the OWC board 

who decided to use one for their website. 

Instead of payment, I opted for a few free writer's weeks 

in exchange for the use of the photo below.

And we've been typing away this week 

with a few breaks for beach and lake walks.

A couple of blocks away, I found the perfect bench for resting, 

meditating on the tides and general all 'round enjoyment. 

And no visit to Colonyhouse would be complete 

without a trip into nearby Manzanita

(where I like to spend the afternoon writing at the

window counter of the Manzanita News and Espresso Cafe).

The storefront got a new face lift

(and mural--though I miss the bright red benches)

My mother loved Manzanita's beach and long stretch of quaintness.

I think it reminded her of Pt. Reyes in California

as it does me. 

An afternoon topped off

by a gorgeous drive back to the cabin.

A few wild elk along the bay.

One last evening before rushing back home,

to its cares and worries

that have nothing to do with my characters

and everything to do with Life. 

Writing the Life Poetic~ Teaser Tuesdays

                  

Hosted by MizB at shouldbereading.

Here's how to play:

*Grab your current read,

*Open to a random page,

*Share a few “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page,

*Please no spoilers!

*Share the title and author.

Today's selection is from Sage Cohen's "Writing the Life Poetic: An Invitation to Read & Write Poetry".

"A few years ago, I spent the month of January at a cabin in the country where my only source of heat was a wood stove named The Duchess. The Duchess taught me much about my craft. I discovered that writing can be a kind of catalytic converter: I feed it the raw material of my life, which it transforms into a brilliant light, a useful and enduring heat. What once may have been painful and difficult is just as nourishing as what brought me joy and ease, because to feel anything at all, to be moved to happiness or sorrow, is the thrill of being alive. Emotion is a clean-burning fuel. I propose that you stay out  of  its way and let it take you wherever you are intended to go. Give it all away, and watch those diamonds glow brighter with exposure." (p.155)

AND, on the opposite page is a quote from Annie Dillard that I'd love to share as well: 

"One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now...Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes." 

Both powerful, timely, what I need to hear. Wishing you a great week. 

Escargot de Chartier~ Missing Paris Day

Happy Holiday Weekend everyone! 

Hoping the fruits of your labor are ripe, abundant and luscious

(and covered with parsley, garlic and butter. Lots and lots of butter)! 

(From Chartier Restaurant,

7, rue du Faubourg Montmartre

9th Arrondissement,

75009 Paris 01.47.70.86.29)

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Cave a Vins~ Missing Paris Day

This shot is the back side of one of my favorite little places in Paris:

La Reserve de Quasimodo (past post here). 

And after a somewhat tense weekend worrying about friends and family on the East Coast,

I'm wishing I was here now. What I wouldn't give for a plate of their Rillette de Sardine, 

the Foie Gras Tartine and a view of the Hotel de Ville across the Seine.

In the heart of Paris with affordable French favorites

and their very own little wine shop in the next room,

the building is also known as the Oldest Bar in Paris,

 serving since the 13th century. 

And for those of you letting out a collective sigh this Monday morning after Irene,

am sending out a whooping holler to those who went unscathed

and a prayer for those who didn't. 

And Bonne Nuit, Irene.

30th Reunion~ A Gift

Recently I went to my 30th High School Reunion of which, in the last few months, I had helped on the planning committee. I mentioned to someone that I hadn't connected with a lot of people in high school (too shy, self-conscious and insecure-- like most of us were) and really wished I had reached out to more people.

In high school, in social class terms, I didn't feel on the same level. Most (or at least many) of them had parents who worked regular jobs and had 'normal' homes and lives. Throughout most of my early school years, we moved every few months so I was perpetually the new kid, the outcast and even worse, "The Hippie Kid" (which meant never having new clothes and feeling a little like a zoo attraction).  Back then, I felt we had so little in common (and again with the lack of self-confidence), I would never have struck up a conversation just to be friendly.

So to be able to connect with people based simply on our school history and shared memories (most of my high school years were finally all in one school)  felt like a blessing to me. These days there are any number of hooks on which to hang a conversation: 30 years of life experience, school, travel, kids and present locations. And what a world of difference a little life-experience confidence can make.

This past month, our class had three wonderful days to catch up on all topics starting with a casual Friday night gathering at a local steakhouse. Eighty to a hundred of our peeps literally took over the bar and nearby diners sprouted eyes wide as cup saucers as they relinquished all attempts to talk to each other over dinner, decibel levels making that a sheer impossibility. The big bash Saturday night at the top of the Hilton offered gorgeous views and dresses, great music and food and speeches by our old principal and a favorite teacher (mine anyway), her basic message touching on the importance of connecting and finding the joy in your life. Sunday's barbecue, back to casual fare, was light, fun and easy and enabled more catching up with some of those possibly missed earlier in the weekend.

Someone (planning a 35th reunion for another school) told me that the 30th is much less about the inevitable "And what are you doing?" question (the inflection on any one of those words changing the tone and its perceived meaning) and much more about "How very lovely to see you!", "What's new with you?" and "Let's stay in touch!" And after a full weekend of my 30th, I can resoundingly say I found it to be true.

At our 10th reunion, one of the 'popular athletic types' in high school approached me, asked what I did and when I told him I was bartending after having just graduated as an English major and wanted to write, he promptly turned and walked away without a word. I literally could have caught flies, my mouth hanging to the banquet-room carpet  as I watched the God-like back I'd sat behind in Mr. B's class walk away from me, his handsome features now approaching a cute nearby blonde sporting a tight miniskirt and blazer who clearly looked like she commanded more money, more respect and more prestige out in the world.

The 30th (without certain jocks) was a lovely affair with joyous, smiling faces, truly happy just to find each other and spend time together as well as throngs of screaming, jostling hugging old friends reunited, so excited they literally jumped up and down. Social class no longer mattered. What was truly important were the hugs, the memories, learning new things about old friends and new stories about old times.

Helping with the reunion, I think, was a way for me to connect now as I hadn't back then. Did I know that when I offered to help? I think I knew I wanted connection but didn't really put it all together until later. Coming down off the high of so much fun, so much reuniting and so many truly open arms and loving hearts, I felt accepted in a way I never allowed myself to be in high school. And I feel grateful and proud that these people are a part of my past, my history, making up a piece of the mosaic soul montage that I am now.

Connecting and joy!
Who knew the 30th could do all that!?!

(Photographs copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Shakespeare & Co. and Midnight in Paris~ A Respite

On one of my last trips to Paris,

I spent a day going from cafe to church to bookstore to write.

And the bookstore was none other than the famous Shakespeare and Co.

...which feels a little like a place of respite in Paris.

After a day of struggling with the language,

it's refreshing to step into a world of books in English

and young salespeople speaking it.  

Though I know it's not the original location,

it still makes me think of the writers of the 20's who spent time at the original store:

James Joyce, D.H. Lawrence, Ernest Hemingway, Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, Thornton Wilder,

Andre Gide, Gertrude Stein, Man Ray and so many more. 

George Whitman (rumored to be the grand-nephew of Walt Whitman)

opened it as Le Mistral in 1951. According to one blogger (Talkin Travel),

before her death, Sylvia Beach, who started the original S.& Co. called George's bookstore,

"the spiritual successor" to her store. 

She willed many of her books to him and after her death, he changed the store's name. 

~My writing spot~

 Shakespeare and Co. is a respite in Paris much the same way 

the film 'Midnight in Paris' is a respite to our lives. 

A jaded writer gets to travel back in time (in an antique roadster)

and do exactly what so many of us wish we could do:

meet the writers of the 1920's, share a drink with them, 

talk writing with them and hear about their lives and their stories. 

The film touches on a universal theme of the human condition:

wanting what you can't have.

Though I'm not sure I would want to stay permanently in 1920's Paris,

what I wouldn't give for a visit (or two) and access to those conversations.

And although I myself tend to question writer/director Woody Allen's personal motives 

for the gorgeous jewel he has bestowed on his audiences,

he does offer us his fantasy
of the chance to have both that visit and access!  

(Shakespeare and Company photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

The Setting Seine~ Missing Paris Day

This shot in Paris was taken after a long afternoon of walking

as the sun shone dying ember rays on the ancient buildings along the Seine.

A perfect summer-like day in spring,

throngs of people in every neighborhood enjoying

the unusual shorts and t-shirt weather in late April.

It fits my nostalgic mood today as I've just returned 

(to my regularly scheduled programming, ie. Life)

 from my 30th High School Reunion and am working on a post about it. 

(Yes, I'm surely dating myself...

.....but please don't call me shirley. Sorry, couldn't help it even with all the nostalgia.)

My mind is joyously cluttered with 3 days-worth of new memories

of people with whom I shared most of my high school years.

And I promise to share soon.

For those of you contemplating an upcoming reunion, don't miss it. 

Like those high school years,  the memories of old and new connections 

cannot be recaptured or replaced. 

As the recently retired teacher who spoke at ours said,

it's all about connecting. 

Bon Lundi a vous! 

Wonderous Courtyard~ Missing Paris Day

I love finding these old cobblestone courtyards in Paris,

wondering how long the moss has been growing here

and just how many well-dressed footsteps have traversed over how many centuries.

They leave me wondering how many artists

 have endeavored their craft behind these walls and windows,

laboring and rejoicing over their work,

stirring the creative melting pot to see what words, what colors,

what stone features arise to the surface and beg to be let loose in the world.

Paris inspires creativity

though I find I can barely write while I'm there,

too many courtyards like this one calling,

too many sights, Parisian street sounds and smells working on my senses 

to do anything but absorb them. 

These courtyards leave me wondering

 about the gardener or concierge who tends to them,

watering new buds or plucking old, bruised and wilted flowers,

scrubbing walkways and polishing sills,

wishing their neighbors 'Bonjour' or 'Bonne Nuit'.

They also leave me wondering 

 how many ways a photo can be sweetly 

posed and framed into slightly new incarnations. 

A lovely new week to you!

And hoping your creativity can find some fresh, new colors 

through which to see it. 

(Photography copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Fontaine de Leda~ Missing Paris Day

On my writer's walking tour recently, 

I came across an older woman reading in one of these chairs

at the Fontaine de Leda in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

She got up to leave just as I snapped the photo 

so instead of  'Portrait d' une Femme Lisant'

we are left with 'L'Invitation dans le Jardin'. 

Originally located at the corner of Vaugirard and Rue du Regard,

the fountain was commissioned by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1806

and moved during Louis Napoleon's reconstruction 

of the center of Paris in 1856.

This beautiful bas-relief sculpture on raised pedestal

 is of 'Leda and the Swan', 

created by a young sculptor named Achille Valois (1785-1862).

It was preserved and moved to its present location 

behind (and attached to) the Medici Fountain.

The subject of Leda,

having been seduced or raped (we'll never know which) by the Greek god Zeus,

was perpetuated by Ovid throughout the Middle Ages

and became even more popular during the Italian Renaissance.

Painted, drawn or sculpted by the likes of 

Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and Correggio,

their works were used 

as studies for future artist's pieces. 

Both Leonardo and Michelangelo's works of this subject 

were recorded as being in the French royal collection at Fontainebleau

but both were lost or destroyed. 

Correggio's was also damaged while in the collection

of the Regent of France, the figure of Leda said to have been 

stabbed with a knife by Louis XVI . 

A provocative subject eliciting many responses over the centuries

 including one critic's voice regarding the placement 

of the above bas-relief in the park,

"before the eyes of the public". 

Maybe that's why it sits behind the Fontaine du Medici

in a corner.

~Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen~
Info from Wikipedia