Tag: provence

My Home in Provence

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Nestled among the vineyards of Provence I live in a humble apartment that was once part of a wealthy family’s mansion, located in a small valley town called Apt, in the heart of the Luberon. The town was built by the Romans and their fingerprints are still visible as part of everyday life. I live here, more than I’ve truly lived anywhere, and above all, I create with the life I’ve found:

(#MyEverydayProvenceObjects // #MyProvenceSelfPortraitSeries)

This approach to living caught the attention of Sophie Peyrard who interviewed me for Grazia. Being that it’s in French I have no idea what it says but that remains to be true for how I’ve been getting by in France this past year anyway. I talk about my home, the incredible hand painted plaster ceiling of a royal wedding crest I wake up under each morning. The evening fires that are a constant in the autumn and winter. My terrace and garden that is a daily reminder of the passage of time. Then, and perhaps most importantly, my Provencal kitchen and heart of life here. I told her about how much I love my bike rides on the Calavon bike trail away from cars and noise while leading you through vineyards, orchards, lavender fields and amazing historic sites such as Pont Julien, a 2,000 year old Roman bridge.

I shared with their readers some of my favorite spots I’ve discovered in the South of France for those of you who want to visit this place and taste the life of Provence. This includes Villa La Coste, Lac D’Esparron, La Chassagnette, La Bastide de Marie, my daily bakery Boulangerie au Pierrot Blanc, my favorite French antique shop La Maison D’Inés, and of course, the Saturday morning market of Apt. 

Here are some of the images from the feature along with the interview for those of you lucky enough to read French for a small glimpse into #My_So_Called_French_Life…

Floral dress by fountain by Zimmerman with Loeffler Randall rope sandals // Blue dress in the vineyard by Vika Gazinskaya (no longer available) with hat by Jacquemus (no longer available) // Wrap dress in the kitchen by Christy Dawn // Dress on the terrace by TEIJA as well as the dress by the fireplace // Dress with bike in vineyard by SEA

 

My Year in Provence

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This is a hard post to write. I have such a flood of emotions looking back, reflecting on what I have learned, how I have grown, and what I have loved. You can not recap a year’s experience without ending it with what is next? To be honest, I don’t know. Sure, I thought I would come to spend a year in Provence and answer all the questions for myself about my life, about who I am and what I want. I can certainly answer now some of these things but other aspects have grown even more confusing. I loved things I never thought I could love like living in the country. I learned things about myself I never knew. For example, I am an introvert which finally explains why I hate talking on the phone, why people who are upset or angry give me anxiety attacks, why I feel so exhausted after social events, and most importantly, why I work so much better alone. So where does that take me next when I come back to the United States? 

It was shocking when I first arrived. Nothing seemed to be possible, from getting boxes delivered to buying food on a Sunday… or any time after 7pm. I missed all the things about New York I took for granted. 24/7 Uber service for instance. There is ONE Uber guy and he lives and hour from my little town. I am ecstatic when my train pulls into Avignon and he’s on the clock. I missed laundry service. The last time I took a linen shirt to be pressed they estimated a turn around time of two weeks… lol. So I got used to wrinkles. I missed Seamless, something which I never even think about now. The pleasure I derive in cooking is to the point of therapy. The access to organic, AFFORDABLE, locally farmed ingredients here puts the US to a great shame. I will never forget my first trip to the farmer’s market. Alone with only a handful of French words, I was terrified. I paid for everything with 20’s because I didn’t understand the amounts, and I was used to New York City farmer’s market prices, until I discovered how incredibly inexpensive everything was. Then I walked into the wine shop and my jaw really hit the ground. When it is not market day in my town or one of the surround villages, I have four bio (organic) grocers I can walk to. I know their names, what is happening in their life, who is having a baby and who is in the hospital. I am, for once, part of a community and I feel physically part of the earth here. 

I learned to live a life with less noise. My days in Provence are filled mostly with cooking, cleaning, and making photographs and those are the days when I am most happy. I found freedom. Above everything I learned, I discovered true freedom. Freedom exists beyond the ability to choose where you live or what you believe. I found freedom in my art and expression. I found freedom from money. Of course, we all need money to survive but they don’t worship it here in France and it’s amazing how much your stress levels dissolve when that’s not the goal to life. I’m really into being free from plastics and logos and that has brought down the noise in my life in the best way. I loved the freedom from a culture that tells woman how we are supposed to look. I loved being free from what society tells me I should be doing like having children and a corporate job so I have health insurance. I loved the freedom from ‘stuff’. I never had to walk outside my door and be reminded of all the ‘stuff’ I don’t have that I supposedly need to in order to be valuable. The value comes from within – in my mind, in my soul and if I can create something of meaning. I wish I had more time to work on these ideas. Time, I have come to find out, is the most valuable thing we have. 

To quote the French philosopher Albert Camus who lived in Lourmarin not far from me, “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” 

Of course, these are just some of the many thoughts and experiences I have garnered in my year here. I slowed down on sharing (blogging) to take the time to be present and experience. I imagine when I return to the US I will begin editing and posting so many of the stories I have filled up 5 hard drives with. There is so much to sift through and my heart has been on a roller coaster. This week has been especially though as I try to figure out where I belong in the world and what value I have for an American culture. 

I created a self portrait to mark the year anniversary as part of my #ProvenceSelfPortraitSeries inspired by Jan van Eyck’s “The Arnolfini Portrait“. This is a great short video on the piece from one of my favorite YouTube art channels. I loved that this was a “painting of everyday life” as much of my personal work here in Provence has been a celebration of the day to day things. What is in bloom, what is in season, what bug crawls into the window, how the light is today.

Beyond that, I wanted to explain some of the personal symbolism I added into this photographic rendition that pertains to my own experience at this year mark. First, there is meaning in the absences. The absence of furniture is symbolic of feeling unsettled, homeless. I brought in chairs, tables, daybeds and pushed them back out. I feel at home in Provence in my soul, yet I do not have a home. I left the shadow of the table with a bowl of pears cast along the left edge to show there is life that happens in this space. I planned to bring in a newly born kitten from town as I love all the cats that roam my village and have earned their trust but then I felt the absence of the pet represented my life more. As many of you know who follow me on Instagram stories, I DREAM of having pets. Both women wear green gowns by Loup Charmant (left & right) in green, green being a symbol of hope. My hope that this path I am on will lead me to where I belong. The hope that I can do something with this work I have created in Provence. The woman on the right holds her gown close to her chest, representing holding everything dear to me I have learned in Provence. The only real valuable thing I can take with me when I go. Her slippers are on because it is time for her to leave. She looks back, sorrowfully to the woman on the left, sometimes I feel my heart being ripped out when I think about having to leave this place. Originally, I had taken a photographic plate with tear stained cheeks but felt the expression was enough on its own. The woman on the left is turned to be ‘looking back’, reflecting on her time in Provence. Her slippers are off and she is barefoot to represent feeling at home here. She gestures with her hand in the way of a ‘blessing’, feelings blessed from this time in France. Though they are married together, in the sense as one, their hands rest together open, vulnerable of being torn apart. The inscription on the wall is my signature and dated for my one year. Hanging above them in an antique mirror which I borrowed from a shop in town, hides a third self portrait. The real me, the photographer. I stand in my men’s linen suit with my camera on the tripod. You can see a discarded green dress on the table, my phone in the bottom left which I use to create these self portraits as a remote control to my camera. I am standing in the kitchen which is pretty much where I always am while at home either working or cooking. You can see the large French doors that over look my garden and her ripened fig tree. 

I will be here a bit longer. I have some more personal work I need to do before I go and a few professional jobs on the table. So there is some time to ponder what happens next…

August Still Life

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I was in a bit of a creative block today.

I have so many things I want to photograph and create that at times I find it overwhelming. On top of that, when I do create work that I feel really satisfied with I have this moment of pride and joy and then the terror of oh God, what am I going to do next? To take a photograph is one aspect of photography, to make a photograph is another. Making a photograph, a process I have been sharing in more and more detail on my Instagram stories, requires a harmony of light, technical knowledge, talent and what feels like a billion…painful…gut wrenching decisions. Sometimes when I’m starting out my day setting up the camera I can feel paralyzed with the daunting amount of decisions that are ahead. Internal monolog: “What’s the theme today, what do I want to communicate, what prop do I want to use, what do I have lying around, what is missing, what does it need, where should the shadows fall, which lens, which aperture, should their be one petal…two… five… ten?… maybe turned a hair to the left, no get rid of them all. God, what I did yesterday was so much better. Did I just peak?…” For example.

A few times the past few months I’ve given in and continued my series on the history of Versailles in an attempt to bury my head in a pillow. But most days I just take a deep breathe and try to quiet my mind down to one thing. Just start with one thing. That’s my best advice for anyone stuck with where to begin, with what to photograph. I have found that once I get my camera set up, choose that one thing (today I started with plums) the wheels start turning and one thing leads to another, as it does in life, and voila! You are on the move making the decisions that were so crippling moments before. The one thing doesn’t have to be a prop either, or subject matter, you can start with just say a lens. I’m going to shoot with my macro lens. You make that first decision and then that leads to the next and so on. Other times I have just started with a spot of beautiful light raking across the floor, well the floor was dirty so I covered it, then I found something I had lying around that could play in the light and I was off to the races.

This still life started with plums and ended with a concept around an Autumn harvest, a sort of chaotic cornucopia which is a pretty accurate representation of where my mind was today. I raided my fruit bowls, tore apart my bouquets and foraged for more figs from the garden. Then, in one of the ways photography can truly become magical, a bee flew in the windows and landed right in my still life and I was once again, satisfied. 

The Last Supper

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Recently I went through a personal Renaissance. I left my life in New York. I moved – at the time alone – to Provence, in a country whose language I did not speak, to a town I had never been to, into an apartment I hadn’t seen. I had never lived alone. A lot has changed since that September day. In the silence of the French countryside I met myself. I met all of my selves. I learned that I can take out the trash, pay the bills, survive through scary noises in the night, take myself to dinner and the movies and do all the things I have always had a man around to do for me. In a sense, I discovered my own masculine side. I became empowered for the first time as a woman.

As a photographer, personal experience is realized through what one creates. Having this time alone to explore myself led me to create my Last Supper, which touches on the facets of myself: my feminism, my masculinity, the past, present, and future. Considering I am not a religious person, when I look at Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper, which portrays the moment where Jesus announces to his 12 disciples that one of them will betray him, I find the study of each of the characters a fascinating glimpse into the flaws of man. I took this concept and put biographies of myself into the painting. My interpretation both defines the complexities of a single human experience and explores the struggle of feeling betrayed by your own mind. The part of me that drinks too much, works too much, wants more money, wants perfection, wants to be desired. I do worry that one version of me could destroy another, a true betrayal of self. It is also a counter argument that we as women are defined by one thing: being a woman. I might be a woman but I also have a masculine side (the woman depicted on the far left) that is independent and smart and completely covered from my curves. On the other end of the spectrum (the woman on the far right) is the exact opposite. The most feminine, most natural version of myself. This is why she is portrayed nude, soft, and leaning on the undressed naked wood of the table top. I can be both; just as a man can be both strong and incredibly sensitive. 

Now of course, I am a woman in a man’s painting of men. To be honest, sometimes I wish I were born a man. There are days when I just want to wear my comfortable men’s linen suit I bought on a recent trip to Aix em Provence with no makeup and just do my job. The importance of Leonardo da Vinci’s work to me is this: he painted women as masculine and it is that characteristic of his muses that is what makes them attractive. Most importantly, he gave them thoughtful eyes which to this day we still ponder. Of his few remaining female portraits, we can see a man who viewed women as intellectual equals, not merely beautiful objects. That is why in the centre all-knowing version of myself I am actually thinking – not about the photograph I am taking, but about what I know about who I am. I wanted her to show the same piercing clarity Jesus was portrayed to have had, to speak directly to the viewer about all of these women surrounding her, to be the grounding pure core of myself amongst the chaos. I wear red because it is the heart of the photograph and is the heart of who I am. It is also Dior, because I am in France after all. 

Click image above to see in high resolution. 

If you’d like to leave a comment please join the conversation on this Instagram! I’d love to hear your thoughts!  

My Last Supper photograph and essay “WOMAN” was first published in Men in this Town

Thank you guys for believing in my work and sharing it around the world in print!

 

Villa La Coste

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When I think of Provence I typically think of gorgeous old Chateaus framed at the end of arching tree lined entrances so you can imagine how curious I was when I heard about Villa La Coste, a brand new 28 suite luxury hotel developed by Patrick McKillen. The new resort sits on top of a hill overlooking the surrounding 600-acre estate, Chateau La Coste, which is a pubic destination with an esteemed art and architecture park set amongst organic vineyards, olive orchards, wine production and amazing new restaurants. 

I honestly did not know what to expect driving up. This was not the Provence I had envisioned… and what a wonderful surprise it became to discover. Winding through the vineyards up to the top of the hill, the sleek resort set into the surrounding landscape with its minimal design made from the natural materials of the region reminded me more of an Aman than a Provencal hotel. The room, OMG the room, was one of the top hotel rooms I’ve ever experienced. First, it feels like you have your very own petite house. You enter through your private fount yard (where I shot this) with an olive tree and wall of roses catching the first glimpses inside through the wall of windows. The interior is bathed in airy white furniture and linens, so chic and effortless looking that I feel as if they are redefining a new French look for the modern world. It was so beautiful I never wanted to leave… though I’ve been saying that a lot though recently. However, the main piece of art in this luxury art destination is not something created by man but the incredible panoramic view off your private terrace of the Luberon Natural Park. Watching the sunrise from bed through the floor to ceiling windows of this view was one of my greatest pleasures to date living in the South of France. 

I awoke with the light, took a walk through the vineyard below, spent the day photographing, drinking rosé and toasting to the new vision for Provence that is Villa La Coste. 

Practical information- This is a perfect destination for a honeymoon or special occasion especially considering the nightly rate. They have a pool, built in USB chargers throughout the room, and is an easy walk to all the restaurants, art, and activities of Chateau La Coste which the staff is more than happy to drive you to and from as well. However, if you can not stay overnight at the Villa La Coste, you can still enjoy the day at Chateau La Coste. They have a wine making tour and tasting (their sparkling rosé has since become our favorite drink of the summer!), an  art and architecture tour, musical performances as well as multiple restaurants to dine in. Most recently the South American chef Francis Mallmann opened his restaurant on the property bringing his signature Asado style of cooking over an open flame to the South of France. It was incredible… everything at La Coste is incredible. 

In post wearing a white linen dress by Reformation, cream handkerchief dress by DÔEN, and black button up dress by Mara Hoffman.

La Chassagnette

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I love discovering. It is the reason I left home, the endless joy I found in New York, then again, why I left it to discover something new in France. When I woke up at Le Mas de Peint I had no idea where to set out for lunch that day. By chance, a French friend messaged me and said, “go to La Chassagnette, you will not regret it.” Without a reservation, which is a big no-no in Provence, I showed up at noon and was pleasantly surprised to discover the most incredible secret garden dining in the Camargue. 

I literally  knew nothing about the space, almost missing the humble sign for the turn off on the road. However, once I walked over the little wooden creek bridge into the world of La Chassagnette I knew this was something special. The host invited me to discover their garden, baskets of herbs, fruits, vegetables, aromatics, roses, and some flowers I had never seen before set in an endless view of farm land. All grown by organic standards, he informed me most of what I would be eating for lunch came from right here, what was picked this morning. A chef who lets the taste of nature be the star.

The setting was beautiful, just as beautiful as the edible art pieces that arrived on our plate. A reinterpretation of natural beauty. There was much to discover, flavors I have never tasted, flowers I had never before eaten. 

I love this quote from their website about Armand Arnal the restaurant’s chef, “La Chassagnette seems to him an oasis which is self-sufficient and for which there is no concept to develop, except that of respecting its authenticity. ” Sounds like heaven, right?

Tip- try the sparkling sake! 

Le Vieux Castillon

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I feel as if I could spend years exploring just the South of France alone, each ancient hilltop town with their own special flavor and way of life. On the journey to experience Pont du Gard we stayed at the Le Vieux Castillon, a newly renovated hotel in a historic Renaissance setting in the heart of the medieval village Castillon-du-Gard. An interesting property, the very clean and modern rooms are divided out into a maze of connected buildings, former homes from the 15th century, leaving you to discover many quiet gardens and shaded seating areas under ancient olive trees. The most spectacular aspect to this boutique hotel is the pool. From the highest hilltop plateau you are surrounded by endless views of the countryside dotted by vineyards below. It’s incredible. A perfect place to watch the sunrise, to cool off in the heat of the day, or have an evening cocktail as the sky turns blue reflecting off the water. While a great pool is a major perk in Provence, what you don’t expect is the very friendly hotel birds there at the front desk to greet you upon arrival. I had such a good time letting them walk all over me even at the expense of having my hair chewed on. 

Additional Information – It’s a great place to stay if you are looking to explore Pont du Gard, Uzès, or Nîmes. Behind the cafe next to the church in town, you’ll know what I mean when you arrive, there is a great distant view of Pont du Gard. There is also a wonderful ancient stone walking path down the hill into the valley that spills out into beautiful, quiet, vineyards. Wonderful to explore, especially early in the morning. 

The hotel also has a chic Bistronomic restaurant with indoor and outdoor seating all tucked around Renaissance charm. 

Below, moments from my stay at Le Vieux Castillon in a white dress by Mes Demoiselle Paris, black swimsuit inspired by French linen undergarments by Lonely, black Bardot neck jumpsuit by Paloma Wool, and red silk scarf by Les Belles Heures. 

Chateau des Alpilles

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Chateau des Alpilles is a historic chateau in the heart of Provence in the south of France. A family run property by three generations of women fills your soul with warmth as you drive up the tree lined entrance. It’s insanely beautiful. It’s perfectly French. It’s the kind of spot where you sit with a glass of rosé and listen to the sound of the birds, touch your fingers into the soft stream of water gliding into the beautiful stone pond, and watch the light dance through the ancient trees. It feels as if time stopped here. As if nothing bad could ever happen or has happened. The world is still a magical place, the roses are in bloom… this is the Provence I dreamed of. 

Practical information: It’s a boutique hotel with only a handful of rooms which I love because it keeps the place intimate, however, best to book in advance. You can choose from the main Chateau or there are multiple other historic buildings around the property they have converted into rooms. You can stay in the old Chapel or the building once used to bake the bread and do the laundry.  Even if you are not staying at the hotel consider coming for a meal. You can dine in one of their formal dining rooms under chandeliers or my favorite, outside with the beautiful light and view of the Chateau. You must make a reservation as they only seat around 75 persons for service but I highly recommend it. The food is incredible, especially their signature shrimp salad! Below wearing a chambray dress by Sea New York.

Click any image to see it full size! 

Winter in Provence

Posted in Cinemagraphs, Lifestyle, ProvenceTagged , , , , , , , , , , 30 Comments

Life fell into a quiet pace. In the mornings I count the bell tolls while the angular winter light rakes across the crumpled bed covers. In the evenings the cry of the starlings marks 6pm as they dance to their symphony in the sky.

fireplace-provence-cinemagraph-615The distant sound of a person’s footsteps on the quiet ancient streets, the soft ambience of rain outside my aged glass window plane. Most days nothing is happening. The stores have closed for the season, the visitors have gone home to Paris and on many of the restaurants old signs hang saying closed until April.

I go for long walks between the towns, the vista dotted with chimney stacks dancing with smoke. A dusty blue haze settles in before each sunset, a faint reminder of richer blues skies ahead.

It’s better than I imagined, the quiet after years of thriving on noise. Life noise, street noise, work noise. Manhattan just seems to constantly hummm. I used to be afraid of silence but now I find myself in it and it is there in the void where I can paint all the worlds I dream of.

As I work in the short hours of afternoon light I watch as it scans with each passing minute through the room I photograph in. It always seems to start with such gusto and by the time it reaches the last corner before slipping away it slows to a linger like taking that last sip of champagne.

The nights are illuminated by roaring fires and home cooked meals. For years I cursed the winter, I never knew it could actually be so warm. I watch the trees and the vines and the rosebushes rest… and I rest… because with spring awaits new wonders to discover .

Drinking Wine in Provence

Posted in Lifestyle, ProvenceTagged , , , , , , , 22 Comments

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I remember when I first moved to New York in 2003 the sticker shock I had over the cost of food and drinks. A poor college student, underage, I didn’t drink back then and even if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. It took a long time in my late twenties to finally accept the fact that cocktails can cost $18 apiece and a good bottle of wine at dinner will be half of the bill if not more. When I cooked at home, on average, the cost of wine for dinner was between $20 to $30 a bottle.

Then I moved to France.

I’ll never forget the first time I walked into the wine shop here and looked at the prices. The average cost for a locally produced bottle of wine was under $10. And we are talking very good wine. Standing there confused I was having the inverted sticker shock sensation I once felt in New York. I must have looked completely bewildered, staring at the shelves of bottles motionless. One of the shop keepers asked me if I needed help and after fumbling shyly through in French “I’m sorry I don’t speak French, do you speak English?” we started a dialog which has continued to this day to enrich my knowledge slowing unlocking the French wine regions one bottle at a time.

We started first with what I was making for dinner, honey and herb roasted pork loin. You do not have to know anything about wine but you do have to know what you’re eating. The French are experts on pairing wines to flavors and I find this to be the best way to start a conversation and begin to make sense of a wine region.

It’s very funny being in a place so different from home. In Provence, and one of the reasons I love it so much here, there is a matter of fact approach to wine making. It’s not overly glamorized, commercialized, hyped, locked away behind gilded gates and sold to you in an expensive package. The goal is not to get rich, the goal is to make good wine for your community.

Wine is treated as a right, not a privilege. We all have the right to good wine.

Driving from village to village in the Luberon is a beautiful tango between small winding roads and blankets of vineyards tangled with life. In a word, it’s breathtaking. It’s a symbolic view of the cycle of life. If Napa Valley is a beautiful woman with her coiffed hair and makeup dripping in diamonds and high heels, Provence is her tomboy sister with striking natural beauty, long wild hair barefoot in the dirt draped in a linen dress. The locals here talk about the region’s vineyards and what years yielded the best wines. I visited one vineyard at the footsteps of Bonnieux on a recommendation to buy a bottle of theirs from a specific year. The French woman who helped me was quite unapologetic while she informed me they were sold out. That’s just the way it is. There will be more good years.

Perhaps my favorite moment from last autumn’s harvest was the sight of an old farmer happily bobbing along driving his tractor through the middle of town pulling a large bed overflowing with grape clusters. I assume he was en route to our town’s CSA winery where the local farmers can bring their grapes to be mixed together and made into wine. It is here where you can buy bottles of wine for around $3! An American I had met some years ago that once lived in Provence told me “they pump wine like gas down there” which at the time I thought was a metaphor but found, it is actually true! It is here at the CSA where you can watch people come in with their large empty plastic jugs and just like a gas pump, fill-er-up. No fills, just good table wine made from the community. (I’ve snapchatted / Instagram storied this)

It’s been a fun and interesting experience and I can tell you one thing… it’s going to be very hard to go back to New York prices after this.

Wearing in portrait above:

Monogrammed (check cuff!) “Husband Shirt” by Misha Nonoo, vintage vest from my favorite vintage store on earth Melet Merchantile, linen scarf from Merci-Merci Paris, leather boots by Lucchese Boots, IWC Portofino Watch, “The Perfect Vintage Jean” by Madewell and red lips are a mix of Nars Cruella and a top swipe of MAC’s Lady Danger.

Autumn in Provence

Posted in Lifestyle, ProvenceTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 32 Comments

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I like the soft and dreamy and romantic. Sometimes I make believe it, but always, I look for it in everyday life. A French afternoon dappled in light, a glowing wine glass. Smudgy and dreamy, never completely clear or harsh. The world is harsh enough, don’t you just want to live in a dream? I know I do…

When I set foot in Provence early last autumn I started myself on a new journey. Self discovery and reawakening my vision. I just wanted to experience something entirely new. I wanted to fulfill a dream to live in France. I wanted to find new challenges, new inspiration, a new way to see life. I’ve seen it through the eyes of the girl who grew up in Texas, then I saw it through the adult eyes of the woman who worked in New York. Much like the landscape outside my window, I let each chapter change me as the seasons change the vines and I hope, with spring’s new awakening, something even greater blooms.

Here are a collection of photographs from autumn in Provence~

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My New Year’s Resolutions

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I think this picture kind of sums up 2016. I haven’t spent much time reflecting back, only looking forward. Defining how I will shape 2017 and what I hope to achieve from it. My personal New Year’s Resolutions for 2017 I’m making public here to have a place I can come back to and remind myself of the goals. And you know, if you say it out loud you’re more likely to accomplish it.

 

Above self-portrait inspired by Milio BURQUIN’s painting, La buveuse d’absinthe taken in my home in France in Rouje shirt with a traditional French Pastis in hand.

 

  1. Put stronger ideas, meaning and emotion into my photographs.
  2. Take fewer photographs to make more impactful ones.
  3. Study the light of Provence. Break it down into a scientific equation.
  4. Add the passage of time into my photographs through movements like in a symphony.
  5. Shoot more 4×5 film
  6. Make photographs more like paintings.
  7. Get a dog. IT’S TIME.
  8. Build a darkroom.
  9. Move to California.
  10. Work on empathy.
  11. Define the purpose of my photographs.
  12. Define myself and style as a photographer and apply it to everything, not just my personal work.
  13. Make commitments.
  14. Set new professional goals.
  15. Create one photography tutorial a week on social media to share my knowledge and continue to build a community over our shared passion.
  16. Create one film noir short on social media based around a 24 hour story once a week.
  17. Shoot more ballerinas.
  18. Shoot more flowers.
  19. Stop wasting. Wasting food, wasting money, wasting products.
  20. Live with less.
  21. Shoot more for others.
  22. Make a home.
  23. Save money for real vacations, not work vacations.
  24. Finish the new photography portfolio site.
  25. Finish the Cinemagraphs site.
  26. Create Cinemagraphs for art, not commerce.
  27. Do something good for my body’s health everyday through physical activity.
  28. Stop drinking all together.  Drink less 😉
  29. Find a way to create more romanticism in my work.
  30. Build the world I want to live in, not the one others want for me.
  31. Learn to be more comfortable sharing my life.

“If to live is to express the emotions of life, then to create art is to express the life of emotions.” -Edward Weston, Group f.64

The French Cheese Culture

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France is a culture of cheese, chief amongst the reasons we get along so very well. One of my favorite stops each Saturday at the market is with my local fromager, Clement. His wife’s family raise sheep and have been making cheese for generations. He attends five different markets each week, selling only the finest fromage, has been utterly sweet to me, and is extremely passionate and knowledgeable about his products.

For this particular cheese plate I created on an unexpectedly balmy December afternoon I asked Clement to recommend a variety of cheeses from different regions of France with different textures, colors, and flavor profiles. Some young, some aged, soft, firm, creamy, cow’s milk, goat, sheep.  His suggestions of 5 cheeses (4 of which are available in the US from Murry’s Cheese, my FAVORITE cheese store in New York, and linked below!) led to the most beautifully decedent platter mixed in with a symphony of dried fruits, nuts, olives, tapenades, honey and saussions (cured meats) from the local market.

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