Monday, February 28, 2011

Work, and later - some friends visiting!

A first post of Paris, but also some friends coming over (welcome!, it's great to have company.)

- My mom suggested I'd take you by the hand sometimes, so follow me on the way to work: train from the suburbs to the heart of Paris.

- And I asked some friends to visit, they arrived right on time!

Till nextime..













Wait, there is a knock on the door... 
Here are the guests, each drawn by a different left hand of a different right person:






5 comments :

  1. About the "Devil's Hand" ("La main du diable")...We have to greet Georgette, an old Breton lady for making this moment even more special. Where was that? Passage Joufroy?
    As we were sitting outside the café, drawing, she came to us with a need to chit-chat. She told us about her childhood in Britanny. How, in that then very religious corner of France, left-handed kids were forced to use the right hand. For the left one is indeed the hand of the devil. Probably because of that, she used to stammer as a child. But today, how happy she is, and grateful, to be skilful with both hands! The story continues today, in a different way... Thx, Bear!

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  2. There is a Laurie Anderson storie called "False Documents":

    I went to a palm reader and the odd thing about the reading was that everything she told me was totally wrong. She said I loved airplanes, that I had been born in Seattle, that my mother’s name was Hilary. But she seemed so sure of the information that I began to feel like I’d been walking around with these false documents permanently tattooed to my hands. It was very noisy in the parlor and members of her family kept running in and out. They were speaking a high, clicking kind of language that sounded a lot like Arabic. Books and magazines in Arabic were strewn all over the floor. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe there was a translation problem--that maybe she was reading my hand from right to left instead of left to right.
    Thinking of mirrors, I gave her my other hand. Then she put her other hand out and we sat there for several minutes in what I assumed was some kind of participatory ritual. Finally I realized that her hand was out because she was waiting for money.

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  3. I like the Smurf, the one above your left foot..

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  4. Me too, but I was not clear enough, this is not a foot to call my own, the two last ones are by friends, but had too much good feedback on them to keep to myself.

    Since they are not mine, I am free to talkaboutem, right?
    - It takes quite some courage to look a smurf in the eye while and keeping your cool enough to still trap its spirit, and it is not easy to draw your foot while walking.
    - The perspectives of the gallerie are excelent, and I love the changes of the texture (as well as ï's absence)!

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