Painted smile by Ernesto “the Monkey” Cabral (1890-1968). Cabral was one of the greatest Mexican illustrators of the first half of the 20th century. I could well buy – or steal – one of his works. (Expo at the local city hall, Tlalpan, Mexico city, 2018)
“Where did I leave my cel?” Maillol. In the 30’s I guess. One of a series of statues spread across the gardens of the Tuileries.
“And I held my breath”. Paris, 13th arrondissement. 2018. (May have posted it already. My filing system is failing)
Portrait in Linocut. There is a workshop three blocks away. Feel like having a go. Never used that technique before…
Victor Hugo. Paris 2018. This is part of a series of commissioned street art around the Pantheon where the most distinguished French are buried.
My late sister-in-law, Fabienne. C.1968, after she’d lured my brother onto the barricades of May ’68. Photo by my brother. When did our life become “vintage”? 😉
Grand-Duc, city square, Tlalpan. In English? Come on! Ok. Eagle-owl. I like the French name better: Great-Duke. I don’t like captive animals much, but this big owl looked in good shape. Well-treated I suppose.
Will Paula survive her night of terror and make it safely back to Wameru compound? I have a special relationship to Daktari. The show started when we arrived in Kenya around ’67 and was one of the highlights of the new independent, single-channel Voice of Kenya TV. When the show was over, we’d grab the car the next day for a safari. Did we live inside the TV? I don’t know Paula’s fate. Bought this little book in Brooklyn at the flea market. 5 bucks. Last 20 pages have been torn out. Damn vendor.
That one is for Harleyte. She’s a big bike fan. I’d seen this particular one often in front of one of Daughter #2’s neighbours. Never a good light or shot opportunity. You can visit Harleyte’s (aka Amélie)’ blog at:
Witty, sweet and sour, fun reflections on life. Worth the trip. In French, but the translator works all right.
Cathedral at Brasilia, 1973. Built by Oscar Niemeyer from 1959 to 1970, the cathedral represents the fingers of two hands joined in a prayer. The capital of Brasilia was brand new then. We stayed at a plank hotel in the mud on the outskirts of the city. I swear there were rats tiptoeing around. I had my fair share of lousy hotels in Brazil but this was one of the worst.
“Love is the drug”. Métro Nationale, Paris, 2018.
We’ve been made. Maasaï Mara National Park, Kenya, 1988.
The trap woman, By Bilal. One of the best French Comic artists alive. (And one of the many books and comics I bought on this trip)
Digital photography by Pato Gómez, Mexico city, 2019. (Another expo nearby). Since it is untitled I call it “The Faun’s daughter”. If I may.
Mérida, Yucatán, 1978. This was my first contact with Mexico, via a summer course in Mayan anthropology given on site by some of the best teachers of the University of Tuscaloosa, Alabama. (Roll tide!) In those days, most men in Yucatán wore the traditional white cotton pants and shirt. Found this forgotten slide in boxes I’d left at my brother’s in Paris. Brought back about a thousand slides… Long hours of digitalizing in perspective. 🙂
Thank you for flying Equinoxio’s Time-Space shuttle. Always a pleasure to have you on board.