I found this cup, 'made in France', the sales woman told me, as I paid 10 euro for it in her beautiful little shop in Dijon. Have a peek inside Au bois d'Amourette
It's exquisite in real life, just big enough for my espresso ...
The Cottage, Bourgogne
Here I am, sitting at the table you see in the photograph below. The air is soft and warm already, so early in the morning, the sky blue, and we're preparing to wander out into another day.
Writing ... the internet ... they are forms of meditation for me. Out here in Bourgogne, I am loving the sensations of this outdoor writing and reading life.
Everyday we spend long hours wandering, exploring so there's a balance I love. Today we're back in Beaune, tidying things up as we prepare to move closer to my beloved mountains tomorrow. I shall finally visit Mont Blanc, a mountain I read of so often in the climbing literature devoured over the years. And that is what makes leaving this little oasis of peace and beauty bearable.
A glimpse of here ...
In Bourgogne ...
I find myself comparing the landscapes here in Bourgogne to those back in New Zealand. Although, surely, that is the fate of the wanderer. I find myself always layering memories of places I've lived or visited over where ever I am in the now. Looking for some kind of 'fit' or familarity.
Some mornings I wake up in Antwerp and I smell that particular smell, that heavy-traffic pollution smell, first discovered in Los Angeles, a familiar scent back in Istanbul and now, oftentimes, there it is in Antwerp.
Here in Bourgogne it is the geography ... the lay of the land. The vineyards that run as far as the eye can see, the hills, the lush fields. The air is good. And somehow the cloud formations make me imagine the coast or a huge lake is somewhere close by. It's big sky country where we are.
Chateaus and castles are everywhere. Sunday was spent wandering le Château de Cormatin. Rather exquisite it was ... no echoes of 'home'. It was particular and surely an example of 'someplace else'. Unimagined. Unknown.
Evenings, and I've been relaxing with a short tv series out of New Zealand, Top of the Lake. A Jane Campion creation. I'm hooked but find the storyline disturbing. However the scenery is so beautifully familiar. Two episodes to go ... Salon.com has promised a 'superb finale'. Let's see how that goes.
And now? Sunshine and Bourgogne are calling me.
Off and wandering.
My Way ...
Chi trova un amico trova un tesoro.
Usually, when I head out to a photo-shoot, it's a new location, new people, new light.
Most times, nothing is known or certain ... it's a new beginning.
I don't use lights, I demand nothing from people. I don't have a routine.
Each person, each family, each event is like an individual fingerprint and so I can't ask for the same thing.
I want them to be as they are, wear what they love, and I like it if they can take me to their favourite place.
Sometimes I check in to see if this way of working scares me. But it doesn't. It seems to be the thing I love doing best, that attempt to capture people as they are.
And anyway, I get to meet people like Steven and Isabel and that ... that is treasure, to be sure.
Translation: He who finds a friend, finds a treasure.
Sometimes ...
Sometimes you look up, just in time to see someone out there is about to photograph you ...
Meet the lovely creature I was photographing on the occasion of her First Communion.
John Szarkowski, a quote
In the past decade a new generation of photographers has directed the documentary approach toward more personal ends. Their aim has been not to reform life, but to know it.
John Szarkowski, photographer, curator, historian, and critic.
To know life. I thought, 'Yes! That describes how I approach photography. To know life, to attempt to capture slices of it, with my camera.
To slip into the midst of it, to disappear, and to come away with images where my presence was forgotten.
