Another Cemetery Reflection...

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Strolling in Pere Lachaise Cemetery the other day with Virginia, Mary, Peter, and la Grenouille, saw this reflection on polished black stone, and thought, of course, of Weekend Reflections.
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Sorry to be so absent here, but have been spending more time over a the Facebook page, link in sidebar. Hope everyone had a happy Valentine's Day...
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Tombstone Blues

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If you have been looking at these pages for any length of time, you know I love cemeteries, and you also know I love reflected light. So when I came across this puddle reflection on a tombstone after a rainstorm, I was close to heaven. And funny, the blue sky in the reflection is much closer to the real color than the bits of sky visible through the trees. So much dark surface in this image that the metering caused the real sky to get burned out a bit. This was in the Pantin-Aubervilliers Cemetery, just outside Paris, which at 107 hectares, or 264 acres, is the largest cemetery in France. And for another take on Tombstone Blues... click here. And as it is the weekend, and this is a reflection, let's put it up on Weekend Reflections over at James' place.
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A Holiday Sampler . . .

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For James Reflections Weekend, these first two are from Cologne, Germany, across from the cathedral there. Famous faces. Call me a "reflections papparazzi".
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This next was high up in the tower of the cathedral. People just have to leave a trace of their presence, affirmation of existence. I guess a blog in cyberspace is the same sort of thing ?
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Finally, saw this fading photo on ceramic in a cemetery near Chantilly, France, this afternoon. Born in 1919, she died in 1940, her short life spanning the space between two World Wars. RIP Marie Lousie.
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As mentioned earlier, I admit to spending a bit of time these days on Facebook cultivating my new photography page there under Owen Phillips Photography France, and also looking around at the surprising number of excellent pages produced by people who have similar interests in cemeteries and abandoned buildings, or other artwork in various places.
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Some particularly good sites I've come across in my wandering on Facebook so far are (click the links here to go there, and these are not in any particular order) :
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Historic Cemeteries
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Staglieno Cemetery and More
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Maurizio Ghiggeri Photography
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Jeanne Trend-Hill Headstone Hunter
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Headstones and History
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Charnel Rose Photography
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Abandoned Love Photography
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Ms Misunderstoods Moments
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Dirty Angel Photography
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Abandoned Americana
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Martin Vegas
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And no doubt all that is just the tip of the iceberg. But am still checking in here too from time to time...
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A Small Black Dress . . . Petite Robe Noir . . .

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Very exceptionally, to participate in James Weekend Reflections this week, am posting a photo which I did not take myself ; the Grenouille (Mr Toad's other half) took it last week on her iPhone in Paris. Just across the street from Le Printemps department store. A quintessentially Parisian reflection. Great job, chère Grenouille !
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I must admit, if I'm posting her photo here, in the spotlight of international celebrity and fame to be forthcoming to her, it is partly to calm her tempestuous temper. For she has found out that I have another mistress. She has known about this blog for some time now, my late nights slaking the thirsts of the blogosphere had finally come to her attention. But now, for some weeks, I've been shacking up with Ms. Facebook (or Fesses de Bouc, as some French say), and la Grenouille somehow got wind of it. I suspect Ms. Blogspot must have sent her an anonymous letter. I even dressed Ms. Facebook up with a new public page which can be peeked at here. (though you will need to log in to Ms. Facebook to see it). Now, I've got to run, before la Grenouille catches up to me with her rolling pin and frying pan to do a drumbeat on my cranium.
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Just an Ordinary Blog . . .

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To participate in James' always excellent Weekend Reflections page, I offer you these subtle reflections of late afternoon sun on an old church in Brittany, in thick leaded glass. This kind of light play off the surface of ancient glass just mesmerizes me. Yet another reason why I love living in France.
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This next is not a reflection, but rather an illumination of stained glass by a ray of light coming through a window on the far side of the church from this window, working a strange spell in each different piece of glass it touched here.
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After perusing that little litany of light this evening, it was time for dinner. On the menu was Dorade fresh from the fish market, with rice and broccoli, all washed down with one of my all-time wine favorites, which we drink rarely, but it was a celebration, so we uncorked a bottle of Chateau Grenouilles, a Chablis Grand Cru, which is about as good as it gets from the fabulous town of Chablis in Burgundy. "Grenouille" as you know, is French for "frog"... so this is frog wine, but a frog with a Chateau, like Mr Toad in the Wind in the Willows, from Toad Hall.
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What were we celebrating you ask ? Why, the acceptance and publication of ten of my photos on the Unesco World Heritage web page for an area in southern France, the Causses and Cevennes, which I love dearly. (oh, and James, if you look closely, there are a reflection or two on the bottle here :-)
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Life Is but a Dream ?

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While wondering what to blog about today, this Sunday evening, (am becoming a Sunday blogger only???) not for very long though, as time seems to be in short supply these days, and never have time to think for very long about much of anything, before something else comes along, sweeping the stage of the previous act, and requiring attention and concentration, until the new subject becomes the old, getting swept away in the rapids of each passing moment, each passing day, and don't the weeks and months and years go faster and faster ? Becoming a blur. Is this what life is finally; a passing dream ? The illusion of things we hope to hold on to, but finally we hold on to nothing for very long, before it all slips away, merrily down the stream.
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But yes, wondering what to blog about today brought me quickly back to the subjects of reflections, and the ongoing growing collection of reflections over at James' place for reflections on the weekend... and the nature of reflections, those ephemeral minor miracles in light bouncing around carrying elusive illusions of images to alight in our eyes, travelling the optic nerve, and onto the movie screens in our brains. How utterly fabulous and magical.
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Reflections on water, reflections in glass, reflections on polished metal... who could have possibly dreamed up such visual phenomena ? Was just listening to Joni Mitchell sing Both Sides Now in a performance from 1970, and could listen to her all night, taking in the message that there are always more than one way to look at things, clouds, love, life, whatever, and don't miss the reflections off the odd reflecting pools we may come across in unexpected places along the way.
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It had never occurred to me until just now to type "Reflections" on Google Images to get a sampling of the 172 million results which that search criteria returns, some of them incredibly beautiful.
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So, this first reflection is in the hemispherical cover of a heating dish for posh hors d'oeuvres at the grand opening inauguration of the new luxury hotel in Chantilly, the Auberge du Jeu de Paume, built with funding provided by his Altesse the Aga Khan. It's been a construction site for the past two years, but finally now you can shell out from between 400 to 2000 euros a night to sleep here. Guess I won't be sleeping there any time soon.
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This next scene is one of several like this decorating a corridor in the hotel, modeled after the "Singerie", or monkey room in the Chateau de Chantilly, which is just a short walk from the new hotel. Note the reflections in the painted ice the monkeys are skating on...
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An old, (or new treated to look old ?) mirror in a lounge in the Auberge. Am not sure that the horse's head was actually solid silver, but one never knows in a place like this.
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The champagne was flowing freely...
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And all that just a stone's throw away from the Chateau de Chantilly, caught here in the setting sun, whose light was coming in on a downward slant, bouncing off a window, and reflecting all the more dazzlingly off the water and back to the camera, like a well played billiard shot. Sweet dreams...
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Reflection illusions . . .

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Painting hanging in gallery window
Across from cathedral
Oil on canvas suspended in air
Plate glass as translucent mirror
Sky and clouds in paint
Merge with  sky in window
Seamlessly seeming to be
But all is illusion
Digital image regurgitates
Giving a glimpse
Around the world
Of colors on a screen
But what does it mean
How far is the distance
Between meaning
And meaningless ?
Cathedral in stone
Speaks of ancient rites
From another age
An age of stone
And superstition
While we deal and reel
In reflections
Illusions
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PS... Do stop by Weekend Reflections . . .

Don't Break the Chain . . . or . . . Head In the Clouds . . .

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The purpose of this post, as was the purpose (though less clearly stated perhaps) no doubt of the previous 1166 posts here in the Magic Lantern Show, is to propel this blog into the limelight of international recognition and acclaim from millions of viewers.
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Well, isn't that pretty much the purpose and secret hope of every post on every blog the world over ?
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Now, for that to happen, some "buzz" has to be generated. And for "buzz" to happen, you have to pass this on and tell other people to look at this page. More specifically, you have to tell at least ten other people to look at this post immediately. Not tomorrow, not the next day, but right now !
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And tell each of them to tell ten more of their friends and acquaintances to look at this page. If you decide not to heed this instruction, which has it's roots in an ancient Egyptian prophecy, a forty pound blueberry eating pigeon is going relieve itself in the next day or two on the windshield of your car. You don't have a car ? It will track you down regardless. But if you do obediently follow this non-negotiable order, good fortune will arrive in your life by the truckload starting one month from today. So don't break the chain.
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If just six or seven levels of ten people each passing this on to ten more people occur, there should be over a million page hits here within the next 24 hours. So I am counting on you to not break the chain and incur the wrath of the forty pound pigeon !
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Ok, maybe I have my head in the clouds again. Like the folks in this first photo, which is my contribution to James' Weekend Reflections.
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And speaking of having one's head in the clouds, I was considerably amused by some of the extraordinarily creative images which can be seen by doing a Google Images search for "head in the clouds". And discovered at the same time that there is a movie I hadn't seen or heard of, starring Charlize Theron and Penelope Cruz, by that same title, Head In the Clouds.
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And speaking of James, away from his Reflections page, he has another fine blog called "Something Sighted". On August 24th he posted two photos there, with a subtle play of foreground and background in or out of focus, from the cemetery at the San Miniato al Monte church on the south side of the Arno River in Florence, Italy. Oddly enough, I was also in that same cemetery in June of this year, and of about 75 photos taken there, the very last one was this one, with the same sculpture which appears in James' photos, but from a slightly different angle. Rest in peace, Sylvia. One notable person who was buried there is the author of the Pinocchio story, Carlo Lorenzini, or perhaps better known under his pen name, Carlo Collodi.
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Another sculpture in the San Miniato al Monte cemetery was this infant, gazing at the clouds above.
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This is Lorenzini's tomb in Florence.
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A Brittany Bouquet With Reflections . . .

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Why post a picture of of a bright bouquet ? Well, just because. But maybe it was someone's birthday very recently. Or maybe it is someone's wedding anniversary tomorrow. Or maybe... just because life should always be brightly lit by flaming pink bouquets. These flowers cut from the garden outside were seen in a house in Brittany a few days ago. My mother-in-law's to be precise. At 85 she still takes pleasure in gardening and arranging her bright bouquets.
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And for once am getting in relatively early to James Weekend Reflections, with this shot in very old glass in Brittany, in the town of Treguier. I love how the warped surface distorts the shutters and gutter of the house across the street. "Life is but a dream..."
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A few days after the black and white shots were taken shown two posts back, we went back on a much sunnier day to see the house between the rocks in a different light, and caught a bit of a reflection in the pond as well. As you can see the ocean is just behind the rocks and house. Apparently a few years ago during a storm a large wave washed over the property, submerging the car. A precarious place to live.
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Rivers of Reflections . . .

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When I saw on Friday that James had gone back to Florence for his Weekend Reflections, for a stroll along the Arno, I had but little choice to send another echo flying back. James, I'm sure you will know exactly where each of these was taken from. But no two photos are ever exactly alike, so hoping you, and everyone else out there may enjoy another take on reflections on the Arno in that timeless city of Florence, where one can be tempted to stroll along the river until late into the evening when the sky goes to midnight blue.
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Floored By Florence . . .

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It seems like ages since I posted a reflection photo to participate in James' Weekend Reflections, so it's about time I did. And given that James was back in Florence, Italy with his reflection this weekend, it seemed only fitting that I provide a Florentine echo, given that we were strolling around that lovely city just a few short weeks ago. While visiting the timeless Uffizi Gallery we stepped out on the rooftop terrace where the imposing Palazzo Vecchio was reflected in the chrome dome of a trash can. Well, you know I have a bit of a trashy side to me, so there you go. Actually the first one is a double reflection, as the terrace window was also reflected, with its own reflection within; and I'm stuck in the middle of it, hiding behind the black hole of the camera lens, with la Grenouille looking on, perched on her surprisingly long legs... With a surface like this to shoot in one hardly needs a fisheye lens.
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Now these next two hardly qualify as reflections photos, except for the window lights reflected on the edge of the platters, but I just tossed them in here for a little eye candy, spotted in a Florence shop one evening. Very tempting indeed these candied fruits and marzipan.
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This next one, and a couple of details from it, may be one the stranger reflections I've ever come across. The glass door was oddly lit from within, and had some sort of bizarre green tinting in the glass, giving the street scene reflected in it a sort of dream like quality.
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Epitaaf . . .

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Just outside the cemetery in Belgium featured in the previous post, where there is an underground burial area the likes of which I've never seen before, there is a funerary art museum named Epitaaf. This photo is taken through the plate glass window on the front of the museum. Unfortunately it was closed when I was there, and apparently is not often open. I'd love to see what they have in there, so am just going to have to find out when it is open, and get back there. In the meanwhile, this photo can count for my participation in James' Weekend Reflections. And for some reason this photo also reminds me of the title page photo at the top of that most wonderful of blogs Décolleté Glimpses...
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Of An Afternoon's Stroll In Paris . . .

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A series of twists of fate took me in to Paris yesterday, and as I'm never one to look a gift horse in the mouth and ask what it had for breakfast, I decided to make the most of it and take a short stroll before catching a late afternoon train back home, sweet home again. I had not gotten very far however before I realized that I was up to my eyeballs in alligators, and worse, they were even crawling down the walls to ambush passers by from above ! I shot a photo and ran for my life.
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I hadn't gotten very far though before I ran into this menacing looking purple bear in a party hat. Decidedly, the day was going to take some strange turns, I lost no time putting some distance between the bear and my butt, those teeth looked rather sharp.
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... and ran smack into a "Resistance" protestor firing off projectiles for unclear reasons; decidedly, a lot of tension and energy in the air.
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This gentleman seemed to want to hand me a glass of something, but he looked a bit shady in his trenchcoat, so I made tracks away from there.
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Someone had tried to set the street on fire . . .
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Things were definitely heating up, a troupe of headless belly dancers were shaking and strutting their stuff.
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Even the graffiti took on fluorescent tones, Paris was burning hot...
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Everywhere, people were dancing in the streets !
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Strange scenes from the gold mines of Paris street art...
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I couldn't help but think that if James had been here, he would have wanted to see it all reflected; a scooter was conveniently parked in front to allow the Quadrophenia cover art version for James Weekend Reflections.
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A bit further up the same street, a facade of windows was reflected in the plate glass of a shop where all these colors of powder were waiting in glass jars to unleash their colorful energy.
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Some nearly swooned at the thought of all those colors getting swirled on the breeze.
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I didn't hang around to find out what others were thinking, I feared the worst...
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Alligators, bears, dancers, colors, swooning blondes, why should a fox wearing glasses surprise me ?
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Or a monkey bearing books about death with a giraffe for company ? Isn't Paris the place where surrealism was invented ?
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So why not stop into a bar called the Pink Flamingo to try to catch one's breath and gather one's wits ?
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Before heading up a Montmartre street where pink houses can be found on the way to Sacré Coeur ?
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