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Wie ik ben
- Mapi
- Dit wordt mijn dagboek,waarin mijn creativiteit in de vorm van fotografie, tekenen, schilderen en handgemaakte poppen vertelt over wat mij dagelijks bezighoudt. My thoughts, my creativity, my dreams ..... a little glimpse into my daily life.
October
Snow Queen
© Mapi
Don't forget the birds
Lightshow Kijkduin
maandag 30 mei 2011
Friendship
Count your garden by the flowers,
never by the leaves that fall;
Count your yoys by golden hours,
Never when life's worries call
Count your nights by stars, not shadows,
Count your days by smiles, not tears;
And when life's span so swiftly narrows,
Count your age by friends, not years.
Recently I found these lines in an old friendshipbook .
Now I 'll pass them on to you.
zaterdag 28 mei 2011
Paris, simply irresistible
Hello dear friends.
Let's see what's Mapi up to today.
Souvenirs 2011.Hey there I am .....
Old Polaroid, June 1978.
I look very happy,
The first time I went to Paris was some 30 years ago
I studied Art History.
A new adventure was about to begin.
Three weeks in the city of art and culture
broadened my mind.
Place du Tertre, Montmartre, black and white photo 1978 , © Mapi.
I loved Montmartre, ever since the mid-1800s
many writers and artists stayed in this place
to hone their craft.
Place du Tertre, Montmartre, b/w 1978, © Mapi.
Until today you can still see a lot of painters
do their artworks on the streets.
Aside from this I visited numerous museums,
churches and galleries.
Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, b/w 1978, © Mapi.
And naturally Mona Lisa.
La Joconde, Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) , Louvre.
I didn't like her at all .....
In 1980 I traveled back to this wonderful city
and experienced the magic of la Tour Eiffel.
The Seine viewed from the Eiffel Tower, colour slide 1980.
But just for one day.
Four years later in August,
I saw the Eiffel Tower again, visited Le Centre Pompidou,
enjoyed La Fontaine Stravinsky
L' Amour et L'Oiseau de feu, Colour photos, 1984.
and gave my tired feet a rest on a bench outside.
oh là là .....blurred photo, 1984.
Then I became a teacher and my students wanted me
to plan and prepare a trip to Paris.
So off I went with these happy few.
By the way, who is that fellow sitting out there ?
He looks so grumpy.
Colour photo taken by one of the students , 1988.
Perhaps he didn't like The Kiss.....
Perhaps he didn't like The Kiss.....
August Rodin (1840-1917), The Kiss, Musée Rodin,
another colour photo taken by one of the students, 1988.
In the summer of 1991 I undertook my fifth and last trip to the city of Light.
Together with my best friend we strolled along
the most famous avenues,
Sculpture by Jean Dubuffet (1901-1985)
colour photo Paris 1991.
and filled our hearts with happiness.
Doorway to Notre Dame Cathedral, colour photo 1991.
Notre Dame, roof sculpture, Angel, colour photo 1991.
I have many fond memories of Paris.
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A pair of Gargoyles on the roof of Notre Dame, colour photo 1991.
1992: I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS)
.......and Yes , Life is still wonderful.
I have learned to not focus on what I cannot do anymore,
but learn to do old things in new ways . . .
most of the time it works.
And today it's destination Paris again
together with dear Anita from Castles Crowns and Cottages
and all the other participants who will join this sunny tour.
I'm ready for it all.....Bonjour Paris here we come !!
My casual outfit.
YvesSainLaurent, Rive Gauche, my favourite eau de toilette.
What do we need more ?
Ballroom, Musée d' Orsay, colour photo 1991.
Let's join the fun .
Paris
simply irresistible !
You are welcome to visit my other blog as well if you like.
Just Click
vrijdag 20 mei 2011
Foxgloves
Foxgloves
The foxglove bells, with lolling tongue,
Will not reveal what peals were rung
In Faery, in Faery,
A thousand ages gone.
All the golden clappers hang
As if but now the changes rang;
Only from the mottled throat
Never any echoes float.
Quite forgotten, in the wood,
Pale, crowded steeples rise;
All the time that they have stood
None has heard their melodies.
Deep, deep in wizardry
All the foxglove belfries stand.
Should they startle over the land,
None would know what bells they be.
Never any wind can ring them,
Nor the great black bees that swing them--
Every crimson bell, down-slanted,
Is so utterly enchanted.
Mary Webb (1881-1927)
( These photos were taken last week in my mothers forest garden )
( These photos were taken last week in my mothers forest garden )
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