Wishing you love, happy holidays and I’ll see you again one of these days, my friends!

Self-Portrait In Pink

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Paris, 42 rue de l’Yvette, 6th floor, no lift. Wednesday 21 May 2014, fourteen minutes past two, cloudy. This morning when I plunged into the undergrowth known in Paris as the Bois (de Boulogne), an incredibly delicate shower of rain was falling. Quite the opposite of a violent May inundation: the drops fell one by one and I could almost count them. So I whistled through the downpour, and told myself that as soon as I was in front of my computer I’d tell you all about this fleeting pleasure during an ordinary walk. I wish you happy holidays… Dressed in my pink beret (above) I’ll be back at work one of these days…July? August? I don’t know exactly. Thank you for reading, and whether you’re on the beach or on the winding mountain roads of your vacations, may Buddha bless you!

Why not throw yourself into the craziness of digital collage?

L'archevêque,2014

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Paris, 42 rue de l’Yvette. Thursday 15 May 2014, thirty-three minutes past one. At the moment there are days when all I do in the studio is digital collage. Glued to my Canon I snap away at all kinds of tableaux and drawings I’ve pulled out of boxes. Some figures are made using sellotape such as (above) The Archbishop and his Congregation . Others are simple little characters made of paper and laid on abstract backgrounds whose swirls enchant me the moment I press the shutter release. This is how I pass the minutes and even the hours without ever emerging from my creative fever. But all this craziness does have a point: I intend to make a book out of these collages via Blurb. In the meantime… Keep walking!

 

Vous rêvez d’une double vie? Écrivez un journal en ligne!

Le Boy

NI BLABLA NI RONRON. Ostende, Belgique, 29 Kemmelbergstraat. Mardi 6 mai 2014, Treize heures et trente-cinq minutes. Je viens de taper « Online Diary » sur l’ordinateur et Google m’a annoncé 326 millions de résultats. Découragé? Pas le moins du monde. L’apprenti diariste que je suis ne va pas se laisser démonter pour si peu. Je continue donc à écrire le roman de ma petite vie, aidé d’un  dictionnaire Robert des années 80, d’un porte-mine de couleur rose et d’une gomme. Dans le sous-verre qui décore mon bureau, »Le Boy » (ci-dessus), un dessin d’octobre 2011, le mois où j’ai décidé de commencer  à mener sur Internet ma littéraire double vie. Jusqu’à aujourd’hui, sans regrets. Ce qui veut donc dire…à suivre. Bouddha vous bénisse.

Do you dream of a double life? Write an online diary !

Le Boy

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Ostend,  29 Kemmelbergstraat. Tuesday 6 May 2014, thirty-five minutes past one. I’ve just typed ‘online diary’ into the computer and Google has come up with 326 million hits. I am discouraged? Not in the least. The apprentice diarist that I am is not going to be put off by such a little thing. So I go on with the novel of my life. Helped by a 1980s Petit Robert dictionary, a pink propelling pencil and an eraser. In the glass frame adorning my office, there’s ‘The Boy’ (above), a drawing of October 2011, the month when I decided to start leading a kind of double life on the Internet. No regrets… to be continued. Buddha bless you.

 

Writing a diary means amusing oneself to pass the time. Here’s the proof.

Dusty Heart

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Ostend, Belgium. 29 Kemmelbergstraat. Tuesday 6 May 2014, thirty-two minutes past twelve. Now I’m telling you the story of my life, I pay attention to everything that happens to me, and I note down in a little blue Campo Marzio Design exercise book everything about my life’s routine. The purchase of an electric razor, walks, some words heard on the radio, etc. Strangely I have the greatest desire to write when nothing happens. When a sudden shower of rain makes me want to draw a heart in the dust, for example. Here (see above) I feel like a diarist – like an old curmudgeon amusing myself to pass the time. Keep walking…

 

Anti-blues and good luck charm : Ray, a little guy made of wire and sellotape!

The Funambulist

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Ostend, Belgium. 29 Kemmelbergstraat. Tuesday 6 May 2014, twenty-three minutes past nine. This morning while walking along the coast I had a keen sense of being alone. With my hands in the pockets of my parka, alone on the sea wall surrounded by greyness, I watched the sea for a long time. At the end of the jetty a sailing boat headed north. Back in my office I searched for the best photo to banish my blues and chose Ray. He’s the tightrope walker you see before you. Drawn during a period when I was worrying about my career as a DJ, he managed to bring me luck. And ever since, he follows me , tucked in the bottom of my wallet. Buddha bless you!

 

The blogger’s best investments : a pencil and eraser!

42 Rue de l'Yvette, 2014

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Paris, 42 rue de l’Yvette, 6th floor (using the service lift). Every morning, as an unchanging ritual, I write. Sat at my desk by nine o’clock, a cup of Twinings orange and cinnamon tea within easy reach, I compose my thoughts using a Bic Matic (0.7mm) propelling pencil in a 96-page Country exercise book that’s a bit bigger than A4 in size. Between the first draft and the version you’re reading now I correct the text about 15 times. By the time the blog comes back from London, transformed into a little English ditty by the talents of the excellent translator (and friend) Philippa Hurd, a month has gone by. TODAY’S PHOTO  :  Just a spring shower, 2014. Buddha bless you!

The small pleasures of walking…

Moscow (March 2013)

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Paris, 42 rue de l’Yvette, 6th floor (no lift). Wednesday 30 April 2014, thirty-five minutes past ten. It’s something I’ve learned since I started keeping a diary: daily routine is a natural source of unexpected events. For example, as I walk through the Bois de Boulogne every day, life often takes me by surprise. One morning, one of the ladies of the night tells me a joke. The following day, in the waters of the lake, there’s the pink reflection of a tree in bloom or playful seagulls. And in winter, when it snows and I cut across the powder-white Place de Colombie I’m immediately turned into a Canadian trapper. TODAY’S PHOTO :  (Unknown) woman at an evening fashion show, Moscow, March 2013. Keep walking!

 

My new passion: digital collage!

Future Web-Travelers

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Paris, 42 rue de l’Yvette, 6th floor (no lift). Wednesday 30 April 2014, thirty minutes past nine. These days I’ve been digitizing my old drawings like crazy. It’s painstaking electronic work that allows me, through my Canon camera and the abstract resources that lie dormant in drawers, to bring back to life all kinds of characters drawn in the 1990s. It’s the unexpected magic of pixels that enables the most modest sketch to travel all over the place. Congratulations to the inventors of this process who go strangely unmentioned on Wikipedia: Vint Cerf? Martin Schadt? TODAY’S PHOTO: The Little Old Men, Paris 2014. Buddha bless you!

 

Yesterday I dreamed of publishing the great book of my life on this blog…

140526 My office

NO TALKING SHOP, NO DAILY GRIND. Courbevoie, La Chancellerie, 67 avenue Gambetta. Building A, 18th floor. Wednesday 23 April 2014, twenty minutes past eight. Yesterday as day broke over Paris I dreamed of publishing the great book of my life on this blog. And describing the passions and sudden fits of sadness that to an extent characterize those creatures who, like me, were born in spring. As an Aries with Leo rising, I have to cope with a disconcerting character trait that means I can shift from enthusiasm to despondency in the space of just a few seconds. Happily I also have a small voice inside me that resists this and won’t let me be discouraged. TODAY’S PHOTO (taken with my pocket Polaroid i1237) : the table where I write to you every day. Underneath the apple the blue box contains my lunch: whole rice, lentils and two chili sardines. Buddha bless you!

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