The Value of a Lemon

April 28, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 14 Comments

What might be the value of a lemon? Or two?

Or maybe even a whole front yard filled with lemons?

Some of these lemon trees might be growing in pots. Then there are others that might be really large and trained to grow up the side of the house.

You might even be able to tell me in ways I can guess that it took four years for one of these lemon tree to get that big. What then would be the value of a lemon to someone like me who has never seen so many lemons on lemon trees before? What if you were to invite me in for a really close look? Then, what if you were to reach into your hip pocket for the pruning shears and reaching around under the leaves you grasp a huge firm most lemon-of-lemon-yellow-lemon ever. What if you went “snip!” and handed it to me as a gift?

What do you think the value of THAT lemon would be?

Note: For those that might think that I just have small hands which I suppose I do, here is another comparison of my lemon with a large orange…

These lemons were growing in a front yard in the southern most reaches of Florence Italy and were spied through the fence when I was out for a walk. Anyone who has ever traveled or moved to a country where they don’t speak the language knows how exhausting it can be to do simple things like figure out where to get bus tickets or mail a letter or buy the right coffee capsules for the espresso maker when you can’t read the labeling (neither that I got were the right ones by the way). However, this conversation with a fellow gardener was almost effortless and every time I sniff the lemon – I remember how the sun shone on this exchange between complete stranger with hardly a word that could be spoken in common.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

Pillaging Five Essentials From Florence Italy

April 26, 2014April 26, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 13 Comments

I suggested to David that since we were walking the old road from Rome to Florence this morning we could pretend that we were Roman Soldiers sent on a mission to the city of Florence. He replied – if we were crazy we could. Ah well, I tried but he wasn’t up to carrying all that armor clinking and clanking down the narrow echoing street. So we left as two starry-eyed Canadian tourists with two water bottles, a camera and sufficient funds to ward off starvation.

It truly is only a 30 minute into town but by the time we did our circle route and return trip four hours had passed. What did we find you might ask? Here are our five spoils from a first photography pillage of Florence Italy.

Papier – I surely cannot have been the only camera person who sat on the edge of the sidewalk listening for fading foot steps to get a clear shot of this store and side street?

Then there is the Ponte Vecchio – which even from here you can see is it is brick-to-brick bodies.

A stretch of the city wall is a must! But which one? Did you know there are six different city walls that were constructed over the history of the city? Judging from where I was standing this is a piece of the sixth wall.

From the Piazzale Michelangiolo there is of course a great view of the city and particularly of the Piazza del Duomo.

Yet, the most arresting view is possibly that of a replica of David against a Florence blue sky…

Even a copy is a charming sight to behold. But it is getting near the hottest part of the day and we must slip out the back way with our bounty and then trudge up the last part of the hill out of the city.

We will be back – so what image of Florence do you wish we might have taken instead?

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

Arriving in Florence Italy

April 24, 2014May 8, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 20 Comments

Our hosts, Nicoletta and Roberto, call me “Terri” just like my step-son-in-law who is from Malan, Italy. They said that the people of Florence like to welcome their guests and how true we have found this to be. They met us at a small train station in the industrial west side of the city and gave us a full tour on our way to the southern edges. We were presented with gifts of Easter cake, wine and coffee for the espresso machine. Yes, I did still sleep last night after doing some taste-testing before they took me to get a few groceries which in hindsight I should have made a bigger shop. But, oh well!

Today, when we were shopping for a larger supply of sustenance, strangers readily helped me several times until I was able to independently work the weighing machine in the produce section. In the stores we have been to in Italy, the buyer weighs their own produce and a purchase slip is then created by the machine and you stick it on the bag of produce for the cashier. Quite handy really and efficient when you get to the checkout.

A little while after that I was enthusiastically given tips about the area by a fellow motor-bike riding local photographer. Needless to say, we are finding the people of Florence the warmest, most friendly and inviting hosts in our travels so far. Granted, we are a bit off the tourist map. Just the same – we feel we are at home in less than 24 hours. The view across the valley last evening didn’t hurt either…

It is the end of the day as I walk around the yard exploring and looking.

Someplace a little further to the left of this, I am told that Galileo’s observatory can be seen through the trees in the winter. I haven’t spotted it yet but it isn’t for lack of trying. It is warm here but not hot like in the summer when is common to have 40 degrees Celsius.

We are staying alongside a narrow one-way street that runs along a hill and is part of the old via Romana or old road to Rome from Florence. The street is now called via del Podesta.

One of the side roads has poppies blooming along the edge of the stone wall…

and a great view which I will show you on our return.

We walked over the top and down the other side to get our groceries for the next two days as tomorrow, April 25th , is Liberation Day in Italy, a national holiday. The country commemorates the day that the nation was liberated from Nazi Germany. This means most everything is closed.

The country commemorates the day that the nation was liberated from Nazi Germany. – See more at: http://www.florencewebguide.com/things-to-do-in-florence-in-april.html#sthash.ush8QP2p.dpuf

While shopping, I haven’t had so much fun in a long time. Our hosts had taken me the evening before with their car so I would know where to find the store. I only had a small amount of cash on me so just got enough for supper and breakfast. As we were returning they told me about the national holiday. I knew then that our main task for today was going to be to get a few more things to eat. Well, the great little store with fresh produce and oven-fired bread was packed shoppers. We jostled our way through with the locals who were laughing and joking and being helpful all at the same time. It was a hoot! When we finally got ourselves out on the street again with our pull-cart full of supplies, I told David, we couldn’t get a better experience of local life than shopping on the last day before a national holiday in a neighbourhood store. But, I assure you, now that we are back up the hill and have the provisions tucked away, anything we forgot, we are going to live without 😉

I didn’t take my camera with me but right around noon walked back to that place with the wonderful view.

This is when I ran into a fellow photographer on his motor bike and he gave me a bit of a rundown on other places to check out in the area. He was born and raised in this neighbourhood but had also made a trip to an island of the Pacific Northwest of the United States so he had some idea what it was like where I was from.

In conclusion, I have decided that my Italian name is Terri and to say it properly you have to roll the “r” just slightly – not too much and leave the emphasis on the “i” and give it more of a long “e” sound. It is very pretty said this way and I will answer to it without a moment’s hesitation.

What is your name in another language that you might like to be called?

is ‘Liberation Day’ in Italy, a national holiday.

The country commemorates the day that the nation was liberated from Nazi Germany.

– See more at: http://www.florencewebguide.com/things-to-do-in-florence-in-april.html#sthash.ush8QP2p.dpuf

is ‘Liberation Day’ in Italy, a national holiday.

The country commemorates the day that the nation was liberated from Nazi Germany.

– See more at: http://www.florencewebguide.com/things-to-do-in-florence-in-april.html#sthash.ush8QP2p.dpuf

is ‘Liberation Day’ in Italy, a national holiday.

The country commemorates the day that the nation was liberated from Nazi Germany.

– See more at: http://www.florencewebguide.com/things-to-do-in-florence-in-april.html#sthash.ush8QP2p.dpuf

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

Venice Italy on a Short Tether

April 22, 2014April 22, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 12 Comments

Where is Venice? Silly question you might answer. It is in Italy of course. Well, it can be. But I am going to postulate that Venice Italy is mostly in our imaginations. To demonstrate, I am going share my unscientific nine days of observations and reflections. You see, we are under rather peculiar restrictions while in this ancient city of canals. We must, for the most part, avoid frenetic crowds. To avoid dragging a snarling frothing-at-the-mouth tourist through the narrow complex pathways of Venezia, I must pick our times and our locations with care. The most noted touristy locations and activities are therefore passed over.

Though I did get a nice shot of the Canal Grande from the Ponte dell’Accademia

and the long view…

and another Canal Grande from Porte degliScalzi

Plus, there is the gondalier polishing away while waiting for riders…

and an inspired painting sketch…

or two

oh, make that three!

and there is the laundry I showed in my last Venice post.

There are also the narrow wabi-sabi alleyways…

So far so good, we might say. It all seems to be just about what one might expect in Venice. But this is where the imagined truth begins to slip and the many faces of Venice start to show themselves in the shadows.

We know that much of Venice was built by the 1500 as it is recorded in a woodcut print by Jacopo de’ Barbari. This aging and declining beauty hosts about 50,000 tourists a day. Finding a narrow calli not streaming with a procession of guests is often a challenge. Still, amidst the frantic excitement, its swaying elegance can still be hunted down to stand alone, quiet and charming in the afternoon sun. Distant clicking of carry-on luggage fades as it is jostle over the masegni then silenced when the owner picks it up to carry it over one of the more than 450 bridges connecting the city of islands. I have two full days left of my nine in Venice. My feelings are mixed. This photograph is the city I imagined. Yet, it is only one, and often seldom seen, expression on a declining, trampled profile of romance, elegance and power. I am not sorry I came. I am not even sorry I stayed long enough to see past the glitter and shiny bobbles. I am however slightly melancholy to visit this elderly lady on her last breath being sustained by tourism, mythology and will.

Let’s take a deeper view, one where I hope to still leave this fading darling of the world with some dignity – yet let the wrinkles of time add to her story.

we are connected

Italia in Venice

or just Italia?

1776 someplace in Venice Italy

I smell a rat nearby

Who broke the nose of Venice?

and then bit off her hand!?

Is this where Venice collects herself then?

Reflections in an antique shop window Venice Italy

Or is it here in the campo Nazario Sauro?

No, I think possibly the Venice we expect can be most frequently be found on this wall…

Wandering the back alleys in search of Venice Italy, I come across a happenstance poster collage that includes Ruth Orkin’s best know photograph early 1950’s “American Girl in Italy” amongst the mix. I carefully frame the collage within its original context and then edit the photograph to become a new image, a new work of art which emerges as a study of this earlier piece. There are bits of debris, wrinkles and wear showing on the paper. A piece of the brick wall is showing through the plastered images. Nothing is quite straight and true. There is more nostalgia than truth and this is Venice in April 2014.

More about “American Girl in Italy” can be found on a post written by her daughter at Ruth Orkin’s Archives:
http://www.orkinphoto.com/photographs/american-girl

Such a small cup Venice!

Yet, siblings can be seen looking at something from a bridge in Venice just above the daily beer delivery.

Canals are as much for heading to work in Venice

as they are for gondaliering.

Such gondola pride…

as they pass the open storage door.

and the practical posts at the edge of the canals.

The fancy ones are over in the Cannaregio district where the streets are wider, quieter and maybe not so interesting…

It is where Venetians live. It is where your coffee is only drank with milk before 11:00 am and the restaurants are mostly closed from 3:00 in the afternoon to 6:30 in the evening. It is where the boat with fresh fish makes a special stop before going to the larger open market over by the Rialto Bridge. It is where a small boy can through a plastic pop bottle in the canal and no one takes any notice. Still, just like the rest of Venice, the sorted refuse and recyclables will be hung out between six and eight in the morning where they will be picked up and trudged to the edge of the canals to be hauled away before the tourist day begins.

Who is this Venice with such a notorious reputation for love, superb expresso and fish that can sold in a restaurant for 13 euros a 100 grams – with the head still attached?

Who is this Venice behind these many masks?

Shuttered more often than not, she gives few clues…

As I make my way up and down the old marble stairs of our apartment again and again in the Santa Croce district,

as I reach for one old door handle after another,

and the city’s church bells swing a resistant ring against the graffiti walls…

I ask – where is Venice?

Then it rains. Sidewalks pool with water.

Canals welcome droplets as if being caressed awake from a deep sleep.

The passageways empty and leave the heavy light to a photographer on her knees. He brushes the red clay that is caked to the shoulder of her shirt where she leaned steady against the wall.

Darkness comes and still they walk – umbrella to umbrella, touching lightly on the delicate underbelly of exposed skin that is Venice. He asks what she is doing. She says she would like to frame those lights there, the ones dancing on the water. But she doesn’t. Instead, they keep walking, passed where the hustlers have packed up their purses and glow sticks, and passed where the usual sound of rolling carry-on luggage is louder than laughter and past where a couple is having difficulty deciding which restaurant they should go to for dinner.

Damp and satisfied, she leads them past the couple, and up the three flights of stairs to their apartment, opens a bottle of cheap red wine and makes sandwiches on white buns with local cheese for a late supper.

Early the next morning, there is Venice, waiting on the street for the garbage to be collected. A Venice that knows she can order a standing up espresso for a euro at the bakery where she will buy only what bread is needed for breakfast. About then – the light is just so! The masks fall from her imaginary vision and she says…

I am ready to say good morning to you Venice. I am willing to say I am in love with your many faces.

Only now, it is time to say good-bye – a long goodbye like that of Katharine Hepburn in Summertime (1955)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h67MxIl795w

Venice, I think you will surprise me again.

Tomorrow, I shall be packed. It will be time for this humble artist to stow away her work and leave only her impressions behind.

Where is YOUR Venice? What one of her many faces do you love most?

Note: The painting sketches and some of these photographs are now available for purchase at my Redbubble Storefront.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

En Plein Air by the Rhine River in Basel Switzerland

April 18, 2014July 6, 2018 / Terrill Welch / 6 Comments

The Rhine is a working river, moving cargo and people along its length and from shore to shore. She knows her place in that respect. Yet, what passion this slow moving river awakens during a long and warm spring morning.

Even having just arrived the evening before I know her charms intuitively. The Basel Minster (Cathedral) is a prominent feature in the Basel landscape. Its beauty from afar or up close is worthy of admiration.

RHINE RIVER BASEL SWITZERLAND 8 x 10 inch on gessobord acrylic painting sketch.

Art prints available HERE.

While I was painting the riverside restaurants filled with lunch patrons. Several stopped to visit as they arrived or left. One was a young girl about eight years old. She didn’t speak English but her grandmother did and she translated for us so that we could talk. The girl reminded me so much of myself at the same age with her curiosity about painting.

In much of Basel, single family dwellings are few. These small four or five-story apartment buildings line the streets with frequent small bar/coffee and other shops below. This economy of space without the North American highrise allows for trees to reach tall in squares and along sidewalks. The results are a relaxed pleasant neighbourhood though rippling with human noises.

FROM THE BALCONY OF AN APARTMENT IN BASEL SWITZERLAND 8 x 8 inch acrylic painting sketch on canvas board.

Art prints available HERE.

Friday nights are definitely the end of the week with businesses opening later on Saturday morning and grocery and many other stores closed on Sunday. Locals walk, run, roller blade and cycle all the time. Frequently whole families can be seen out together along the paths beside the river. Work, home and play are integrated. Here are a couple of a skate park ramps in a small space at the end of a street.

This is just before where we are going to cross over one of the major bridges, the Wettsteinbrücke and look over the Rhine again. On a nice evening the whole east side of the river is filled with people having picnics and BBQs and drinking wine and beer. Everyone is there from visitors like ourselves to parents with new born babies, lots of university student and elderly women and men. There are people still in their business clothes sitting next to those who appear to have been beside the river since the first sun touched the east bank. Our picnic evening was close to the number one highlight during our time in Basel. Not to be missed if you are ever in town on a fine evening.

It is morning now. Sunday morning to be exact and it seems as good a day as any to take a closer look at the Basel Minster which has a fascinating history. From a slightly different angle this time.

If you look really closely done on the river bank near the right side of the photograph you can see the cable boat that ferries passengers back and forth across the river. However, we are going to continue across the bridge and walk through the “old town” and into the courtyard of the church.

I could stand here for hours watching the light change and seeing how it impacts the few through the far windows. But. Sigh. We must be off through the archway that leads to the lookout.

Around a bend or three and a street or two and we can glimpse the oldest remaining bridge across the Rhine. It is called the Mittlere Brücke or middle bridge. Basel’s first bridge across the River Rhine was opened here in the year 1226. Electric trams were introduced to Basel in the year 1895. These proved to be too heavy for the old bridge dating from the 13th century, so it was replaced by a new structure in 1905.

That little peaked roof structure on the bridge at the bottom is a copy of the original chapel or Käppelijoch on the bridge where in the Middle Ages convicted criminals were sentenced to death. Also, in this time period women who were accused of infidelity or infanticide were bound and thrown into the Rhine. If they were swept to the banks of the river still alive, then this was taken as proof of their innocence, and they were set free.

Reference: Virtual Basel

Today, what I found were the padlocks of lovers sealing their commitment.

Don’t get caught putting one of these on iron gate to the chapel though. I am told there is a fine.

What would your padlock say if I was to find it on this iron gate in Basel Switzerland?

I could tell you so much more about our time in Basel – like when I saw the Five Bathers (1885/1887) by Cezanne in the Kunstmuseum Basel

But some things must be left to our imagination or possibly for another post. Though this isn’t too likely since the train has moved on and we are now well settled into life in Venice or Venezia.

All the best of Easter Weekend to you!

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

Is it Venezia or Venice to you?

April 15, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 11 Comments

We traveled by train from Basel Switzerland through Austria and down the northeast part of Italy to Venezia or Venice. Being an English speaking Canadian I think of Venice rather than Venezia but the later sounds so pretty it seems a shame not to use it. I do have a blog post in the wings for Basel Switzerland. However, we are taking a short introductory walk around the Cannaregio area of Venice late this morning so I thought I would take you with us.

We are staying on quiet calla Gallion not far from the first bridge near the train station. In retracing our steps back towards the station, there is a chance for us to take in that postcard view of Canal Grande from Porte degli Scalzi.

Stepping down off the bridge we will turn away from the train station and take the Rio Tera Lista Di Spagna and have a look along the Canal Cannaregio.

Yes, this part is still fairly busy but it quickly becomes quiet as we wander into the Cannaregio area. I lose interest in canals for more mundane observations. I love laundry hanging on lines. Laundry in canals.

Laundry with a view.

Laundry with a colour theme.

Well, that is about it. The sun is too high for good viewing and it is time to return to our rooftop apartment for a wee snack and a nap.

Oh! Is it Venezia or Venice to you?

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

False Gargoyles removed from Church of Notre Dame of Dijon after fatal accident

April 9, 2014April 9, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 5 Comments

Early evening in Dijon France is as inspiring as the early morning. Our adventure started out seeking a wee bite of sustenance. Following what-has-become-after-three-days our usual path, we enter the far side of Park Darcy and follow the path to the top by the trees.

We walk along the top of the fountain and I stop to sigh a small regret as I had hoped to spend the afternoon painting from this vantage point.

Instead I spent most of the day in the Dijon Fine Arts Museum which was wonderful but meant no time for painting. I shall keep this photography sketch for later reference.

The April light in Dijon already has the harsh sharp contrasts that I generally associate with summer on the west coast of Canada. The sun is warm but the shade is still cool. Though we were in just our light sweaters, others had layered up in winter coats.

We eventually found a plat du jour to our liking and after including a glass of wine, a shared peach tart and expresso doppio I convinced David we should go find that great church we had seen on our first walk through the city when we had been looking for the Les Halles market. The last light was leaving golden trails across the tops of the building and I wanted to pocket a little of that to take home with us.

It is the Church of Notre Dame of Dijon that we were seeking and it was just around a couple of corners and a little more to the north from where we had dinner. Let’s see. Yes, there it is!

A person might reasonably think it was the evening light coming through the stain glass windows that I found inspiring.

They are lovely enough but it not what caught my eye and curiosity. It was these!

These are false gargoyles and there are 51 on the west side of the Church. There were false gargoyles to the left of where I was standing.

There were false gargoyles to right and the clock with its jacquemart above

and false gargoyles in the middle. Let’s just say 51 false gargoyles is a lot of gargoyles.

They are false gargoyles because they do not have a spout that is designed to convey water from a roof and away from the side of a building thereby preventing rainwater from running down masonry walls and eroding the mortar between. Oh but they are curious intriguing things! I had to know more.

The wikipedia story for the Church of Notre-Dame of Dijon’s false or dummy gargoyles goes like this:

According to the account of the monk Étienne de Bourbon, the original gargoyles were in place for only a short time: they were removed around 1240, following a fatal accident. A usurer was killed on the church forecourt as he was about to get married: a stone figure representing a usurer became detached and fell on him. His colleagues organised the destruction of all the dummy gargoyles on the façade, except for one at the upper right corner that survived until the 1960s, when it was replaced. Some 19th-century engravings do not show this gargoyle, but it can be seen in photos taken before 1880. The gargoyles at the sides and the back of the façade remain.

The dummy gargoyles which today decorate the façade, and which represent human beings, animals and monsters, were made in 1880-1882, during the restoration of the church. According to the archives, they were the work of seven Parisian sculptors: Chapot, Corbel, Geoffroy, Lagoule (also known as Delagoule), Pascal, Thiébault and Tournier.

Note: a usurer is a person who lends money and requires the borrower to pay a high amount of interest.

If you were to name one of your least favourite relatives (dead or alive) after a false gargoyle – what human being, animal or monster would they be?

Oh! Please do NOT disclose the name of the relative or leave any identifying clues. In this case, anonymity is a must 😉

Now, far too soon, it is time to start packing our belonging and say good-bye to this beautiful city. Tomorrow we continue on to Basel Switzerland where I am not sure I will have internet access so you might not receive another post from me until we get to Venice, Italy.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

April morning in Dijon France

April 8, 2014April 8, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 14 Comments

We made it from London England to Dijon France yesterday but arrived a little later than planned after missing our first connection in Paris and ended up on a later train. What an adventure! I don’t think I have been so confused in a very long time. Lesson number one – Ask. Lesson number two -Ask again. Lesson number three – keep asking.

Good people to ask in the Paris metro and train stations are the people at the small snack shops. They were the most skilled at giving clear directions. Better than the information centre. Who would have thought it? My assessment of RER Transit across Paris is mixed. I believe it is only for the brave foreign traveler or those that play video games and who are willing to keep trying to get through the doors and passages which appear to be hidden. I took us on a wrong turn someplace getting off the RER and after about half an hour of asking and searching I popped up like a gopher halfway down the loading area for the trains. This would have been fine if our two month continuous train pass had been activated but wasn’t and this is where we lost any hope of catching our first possible connection to Dijon. Since we didn’t come in the main entrance and we didn’t know the layout of the Gare de Lyon train station, we had no idea where the ticket office was located. I tried information and received some rough idea which didn’t seem to lead to anything resembling a ticket office. Then I asked someone else who worked in another part of the building but she didn’t know either.

After waving us off the same direction as the information counter David said “You poor darling. You have no idea where to go and I can’t keep following you.”

This experience and the five minutes to catch our train later when transferring in Sens almost finished him. When I didn’t see Dijon Ville on the list of destinations after we disembarked, I went and checked with the ticket counter. The service person had little English and of course I had about the same amount of French. But I had written out the train number, time and our destination in a little black pocket note book. This enabled her read my notes and not be distracted with my feeble attempts at speaking her beautiful language. She checked the schedule and let me know that we had five minutest to get to Platform one (voice raised hands making appropriate references to be sure I understood as she spoke her English words perfectly). This required quickly zipping across to a middle platform in the underground stairs with our luggage. I gathered David up and pointed him down a steep set of stairs and grabbed the end of our bag so we could go quickly. We then went about 20 feet and I pointed for him to go up an equally steep set of stairs.

“What!”

Yes, I do believe he shouted in dismay. But we made our way up the stairs with a whole two minutes to spare.
As we whisk across the French countryside he is deciding what in the suitcase he is going to send home. But the yellow rapeseed fields are stunning and the regional train is quiet like the ferry home from Victoria. He is recovering. I hope anyway. Looking out the window I see trees with doctor Zeus like balls on them that must be a vine growing up the tree and forming these shapes. Dusk is falling and, even if I have almost no idea what the conductor is saying, the stillness of the end of the day is comforting.

But that was yesterday. This morning we woke early in our old walk up apartment with its French balcony and many tastefully added modern touches. The task was to find the Les Halles market.

Many streets in Dijon are pedestrian and bicycle only making it a pleasant city to walk both day and night. The market starts early and Tuesday is the local shopping day. As we slipped along the quiet streets with locals going to work it was easy to think we are just part of another ordinary day in Dijon.

The salt cod or morue caught my eye but only for its natural display beauty.

I would have taken more photographs to show you but I found an amazing food blog post by the Food Gypsy last evening when I was searching for where we could get groceries nearby. It is worth the read and the food photographs are stunning.

Instead, we went for coffee and croissants at the small cafe next to the market. We had taken a browse and wanted to carefully consider what we would purchase. This task needed a wee bit of fortification so as not to get more than we could eat in a couple days. After, we picked up a few items and started back to our apartment. The day was starting to pick up and the local shops were getting prepared for business.

The day tours were just arriving from Paris as strolled home and unpacked our provisions.

David turned on the French radio and we served up a late breakfast of strawberries drizzled with creme fraiche, parsley ham, sweet pears, ripened goat cheese and a chunk off a wood oven baked baguette.

I then went off to paint a block away in Park Darcy while David took a nap.

I chose the park because I wasn’t sure how people would react to my painting on the streets. However, I quickly discovered that painting is considered serious work in Dijon and many people stopped to comment, visit, ask questions and give their thumbs up of approval. My French is improving by the hour out of the pure delight and pleasure of warm conversation. The only slightly awkward moment was when a couple of oriental tourists stage-set a photograph with me. I should have seen it coming but only had enough time to look up and smile as the woman laughed and put her arm around my shoulders and her husband’s face disappeared behind his iPad to frame the shot. I am not sure if one short night’s sleep can even remotely qualify me as the local Dijon artist painting in Park Darcy.

But here we have it – APRIL MORNING PARK DARCY 8 x 10 inch acrylic sketch on tempered hardboard.

Getting tangled in the unknown and unfamiliar yesterday was worth it for the sweet welcome of the April streets of Dijon this morning. There is something extremely humbling about being at the mercy of others to find our way. It is only equaled by the release of finding we have succeeded and all do to the kind and open hearts and minds of others.

As an adult, what is a time you most needed to rely on the help of others to find your way?

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

If Greater London hadn’t expanded to include Uxbridge we could be accused of missing it

April 6, 2014April 6, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 13 Comments

We had a plan for a day in London but the Metropolitan Tube line was down for maintenance on Saturday. Our minicab driver informed us that Uxbridge (pronounced Ox-bridge) is however part of Greater London. So we have been to London but we didn’t see the Queen. Before leaving us to make an alternative plan the driver explained where to phone the minicab company and what to say so they would know where to pick us up. More about this later in our story.

We were going to go into downtown London to test run our connections for reaching the Eurostar train that will take us through the Chunnel which is the short name often used for the Channel Tunnel. The Chunnel runs from Folkestone in the south of England, to Calais in northern France. Lucky for us, the security person at the Uxbridge station was less than busy due to the closure so he helped us get our “Oyster Card” that uses a touch system for travel fare.

He provided us a practice run on using the card, checked the schedule to help coordinate our times and said he would be starting work at 7:00 am on Monday and would keep an eye out for us in case we had any trouble. Since we neither had a Tube traveling in our director nor a reason to go into downtown London and we were free to spend the day walking the High Street of Uxbridge. But before we go wandering there is one more conversation we must have. Like most people since we have arrived, he asked where we were from which then leads into other people’s experiences with Canada. His story was having his plane turned back on its cross Atlantic flight following a hot place vacation for his honeymoon. The plane had to return due to a medical emergency and landed in a town someplace on east coast of Canada where it was -35 degrees. These are some of the beautiful value-added experiences when arranging every detail of ones travel. We spend a lot of time talking with local people out of necessity. Because of these exchanges my impression of England is one of a warm, helpful, entertaining and engaging population.

Now, would you like to see a few highlights of our Uxbridge stroll?

Warmth and aroma of Italian coffee seem to be at the heart of today’s High Street in Uxbridge England. A historical market for corn and a place of flour mills, Uxbridge has kept a market-like feel and is a pleasant walk-about as bits of time surface and merge between old and new.

There are places where it is still easy to imagine the clip-clop of horses’ hooves on the cobble stone as they turn into an entry way.

Though this passage way is more likely to echo the clicking of heels of smokers these days as they seek shelter from the rain.

We were prepared for the more obvious abundance of public cigaret smoking in the United Kingdom and Europe but I had somehow forgot about the leftover evidences of this habit. These folks are sitting on what is obviously used as the public smoking bench. It is nicely positioned right beside the waiting area for London’s Black Cabs.

These are an expensive travel option except for short distances and when necessity of timing makes the parting pounds justifiable. To give you an example, the Black Cab price to our Airbnb from the airport was 40 pounds. The minicab price is 15 pounds. After mistakenly taking the Black Cab on arrival, I now have money on my Skype account to phone the minicab company. The price for city bus from Iver Health for two was 7.50 pounds while the minicab was 5 pounds. And all we needed to do when we were ready to leave Uxbridge was to phone the company from in front of the Uxbridge Station. We were to give our name and say “pick us up at the three phones.”

At first, I was confused because they were three RED telephone booths and they were located in front of the Uxbridge Station. I was sure these clarifying factors must be relevant to finding us. However, apparently most if not all phone booths are red and these are the only three together like this in Uxbridge. So a destination of “the three phones” is enough. The rest is just unnecessary details. But I am getting ahead of myself. We have more to see yet.

Like the perfect pairing of the flower shop and dental surgery.

And The Queens Head public house.

that has been serving real ales since 1544. The Queen’s head is in commemoration of Anne Bolyen who “was Queen of England from 1533 to 1536 as the second wife of King Henry VIII and Marquess of Pembroke in her own right.^[5] Henry’s marriage to Anne, and her subsequent execution, made her a key figure in the political and religious upheaval that was the start of the English Reformation.” (reference: wikipedia)

Right directly across from the public house is of course the St. Margaret’s Church, parts of which date back to the 14th century and the grounds have been used for worship since the 12th century.

A casual explorer must be careful to search out the history of buildings and not to assume that two buildings that look similar are about the same age. Here is a perfect example. I at first thought the church in Iver Heath must be about the same age as this one in Uxbridge as it does look similar.

But no. The St Margaret of Antioch, the Parish Church of Iver Heath in England was built in 1862. The building is a good impression of a 13th century English parish church, with open faced flintwork walls, a tower beside the church, a lychgate at the entrance, and many tilting grave stones in the churchyard (though I am sure this is due to the soft ground and not a design feature.)

Well this concludes our meanderings in Uxbridge and the Minicab driver is taking us on the route out of town that goes between church and pub.

Pedestrians alert. Remember, in Greater London, if the road isn’t wide enough to pass or park, then the sidewalk is a perfect alternative.

I now have an “England” album in my Redbubble Storefront containing a few of my images from these two recent blog posts about our travels.

Tomorrow is a travel day as we make our way to Dijon France.

What is one curious fact you would advise visitors about in your community?

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com

On location in Black Park England

April 4, 2014April 8, 2014 / Terrill Welch / 19 Comments

With the forest a twitter with Flickers, Magpies, and Wood Pigeons, the dullness of the early spring morning did little to suppress our imaginations as we strolled through part of the 530 acres in Black Park, Buckinghamshire England.

I whisper, feels like Robin Hood and his merry men are going to come rushing out at any moment.

However, we are a wee bit south of Robin’s Sherwood Forest in Nottinghamshire. I can be forgiven such geographical dislocation I suppose since parts of the 2010 Robin Hood movie are reported to have been filmed in this location, along with Harry Potter, Sleepy Hollow, Dracula and James Bond.

So can you forgive me now for not zipping in an hour on the tube to London for our first full day in the United Kingdom?

Maybe if I share a patch of wild Forget-me-nots?

Blossoms?

Tall Pines?

How about a Silver Birch?

Okay, hum… what about a brick house near the edge of the park?

Well, I guess I could have got a little farther out of the bush and you might have been able to see something. Next time.

In the mean while, watch out for Robin Hood and his band of merry men…

next I was going to go and explore an old church nearby with my easel and paints in hand but it looks like it might rain. We will have to wait and see I guess. The other option is to go to the Stag and Hounds Pub. Left to the church and right to pub. I wonder how often that choice has been made in this particular neck of the woods?

What is it YOU most first like to do when traveling some place new?

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Creative Potager – Visit with painter and photographer Terrill Welch

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

For gallery and purchase information about Terrill’s photographs and paintings go to http://terrillwelchartist.com