"Let us have gardens then, where we may see our friends, and parade our vanities if you will, before the eyes of the world. Did you ever know anyone who was not delighted with a garden"? - John Sanderson, Luxembourg Gardens, 1837
Paris in November is a study in neutral tints, with unexpected shots of warm yellows and golds punctuating the city's parks and markets. The etchings of bare branches against a canvas of blue and gray skies is relieved here and there with the glow of the ginkgo, not yet having surrendered it's golden fans.
Sketching in the Luxembourg Gardens, a way to capture the day in my travel journal.
Pere Lachaise Cemetry, a village of stone and iron, final resting place of some of the most famous artists writers and musicians of all times.
Ah, the tragic story that is hidden somewhere around this monument, with the artist's palette and brush immortalized in bronze. yet there, at the base, golden flowers, someone still remembers . . ..
A final sketch on a rainy day, meandering the paths and avenues of this city within a city, reflecting on the past and the present.