The last part of our December trip to France. I’m probably reiterating, but having spend Christmas in France was so special to me, even more so since it was in Aix-en-Provence. It was my first Christmas back home since my engagement (Noël 1994!!!!)
True to our wish to tour the surroundings, we visited Marseilles, the oldest city of France, founded in 600BC by Greeks. It is famous for it’s “vieux port” (old port), still France’s largest commercial port. The entrance of the port is flanked by 2 forts, Saint-Nicholas on the south side, and Fort Saint-Jean on the north. Further in the bay is the Frioul archilpelao, comprises of 4 islands, including “If”, the location of the Chateau d’If (where the iron mask spend his life, in the Dumas novel The Count of Monte Cristo). Unfortunately, the weather didn’t allow the taxi boats to take us to the archipel. Instead we opted for an open bus tour of the city, with enough time to appreciate the Basilique Notre Dame de la Garde.

le vieux port de Marseilles,

Basilique Notre Dame de la Garde,

Little boats and planes are dangling from the high ceilings. The paintings are breathtaking.

A panoramic view of the port and little islands, with If (pronounced “eef”).

The Basilica is on top of a little mount, dominating the city,

The sunsets in Marseilles are magnificent,

Towards the end of our trip, we took everyone to a favorite place of mine, a classic tourist spot of Provence, the Sénanque Abbey. It was founded in 1148 by Cisterien monks, and is still operated by a small community of monks. They grow lavender (huge gorgeous fields of perfect rows of lavender), and tend honey bees for their livelihood. I’ll have to go back this coming summer, to show you a picture with the lavender is at its full bloom.

Once the guided tour over, we headed to Gordes, a beautiful and typical historic village up on a cliff. I think this landscape, of uneven grounds, with hill sides exploited with terraces, old villages, stone houses, clay roofs, luxurious vegetation makes the charm of Provence. Doesn’t it want to make you go there?

On the side of the roads, occasionally you’ll see these uncommon structures called bories. They are dry-stone huts. The stones, without the use of mortar, have been skillfully stacked into huts with corbelled vault ceilings. Right out of Gordes, is a whole village of these bories. The dating of the bories is unclear, however their origin goes as far back as the Bronze Age. Life in some ways must have been so much simpler back then, no worries of catching up with your emails, facebook friends, texting, twitter, but then probably the fear of cold winters, your man making it back alive from hunting dinner…

It was very cold that day, and getting late. Everyone was ready to leave, and I still wanted “one more picture”!

Today, I’m able to share a few pictures from our past December trip to France. I had been hoping for a white Christmas, snow flakes even greeted us on our arrival. However, the thin white blanket melted within a day, and rain took over. Our first day, eager and ambitious to discover all of the South of France, Henry planed a spiritual excursion for us. Legend has it that Mary Magdalen (along with Lazarus and Martha) fled to the South of France (via Egypt) bearing “the earthen vessel that held the blood of Christ”. While legends of the Holy Grail took a life of their own centuries later, merging with other legends, many believed that Mary Magdalen was herself the earthen vessel bearing Christ’s child, the sacred bloodline of David. In the South of France, the cult of the Magdalen flourished until it was all but wiped out in the Albigensian campaigns by the Roman Catholic church in the late 13th century. The site where she is believed to have retreated for the last 30 years of her life, has been preserved by Kings and Popes, as a result it is a unique and ancient forrest, with vegetation uncommon to that part of Europe.
We climbed up a steep hill to the grotto of Sainte Baume, snow still covering the ground, it was beautiful. Wether the legend is true or fiction, the visit was enlightening, the view exceptional, the “promenade” so peaceful.
Will, Meg, Olivia and my niece Rose, all bundled up,

A monastery stands on the cliff of the grotto where Mary Magdalen retreated,

There were many meals, long meals with endless french conversations (to my delight, but probably a little too lengthy for Henry, who is still struggling with my native tongue). This beautiful table was set in my “second parent’s” home, Louis-Alphonse and Anne-Lise. Louis-Alphonse is a very accomplished artist. He is especially known for his sculptures, the picture on the right is of one of his earlier piece. I love how he gives everything a personal twist, here our name settings were cut out little paper dolls. Henry’s were running, since he likes marathons so much.

In the summers we always talk about climbing the Sainte Victoire with the children, but because of the very dry heat and high risque of fires, access is restricted to early mornings only. It’s a good hike, and we never seem to managed to rouse the whole clan early enough to allow to reach the top and back by the curfew. This was our chance to finally make it. It was warm at the bottom, but the wind was fierce at the top. Olivia, only 6 years old, pleaded with every family member to be carried some of the way… The view was again spectacular, the air crisp.

Aix-en-Provence, while in the Christmas spirit, remained very “green”, with a conscious effort to keep electricity consumption low. On the main Street, the Cours Mirabeau, little wooden stands housed the Christmas market.

The “santons de Provence”, little clay figurines, hand painted, which are used in the south of France to compose the nativity scene.

Maybe not the best picture of us, but it’s so rare to have us together, the sisters. In the middle, Sylvie, to the right Bibbi, and I’m on the left.

I’ve mentioned lately a special visitor from France, and thought I would post a couple pictures from this past summer. It’s been nearly 2 weeks since my niece returned to home, and we miss her! We were very fortunate she chose to spend her winter brake with us. To my children, she’s a dream caring big sister, to me she was a valuable assistant and such wonderful company. She’s left me dreaming and hoping my daughters will grow up to be as charming, lovely, responsible, and mature as she is.
She’s also strikingly beautiful!

2 weeks ago I treated myself to a wonderful workshop, from the Baby as Art team, Carrie Sandoval and Brittany Woodall. It was a very short workshop, 2 days in all, limited to only 6 attendees (so so nice compare to the big groups of 20-30 attending wedding photography workshops). I have been a huge fan of their work for a while and was so excited to found out they were willing to share their skills. I love going to workshops, they’re very intense, I always meet wonderful people (who all share the same photography passion), I always learn and come back a better photographer. I wondered beforehand how Britt and Carrie would be able to show us the many poses they are so famous for, after all didn’t it all depends on their little model’s mood? They’ve been described as “baby whisperer”, and I witnessed first hand their ability to sooth the babies. With a total of 6 little models, including a set of identical boy twins, they demonstrated the many poses I was so eager to see them perform. We each had time to photograph the sweet babies, and fallowing are the pictures I took, once Carrie and Britt had work their magic.

Lincoln, 14 days old was our first model,

The twin boys (Harlan and I think Justin), 13 days

The only girl, Shea 5 days old,

Bryden, 10 days,

Holden, the youngest at 4 days. His big sister, Parker came with their lovely mom.

Magalie is 9, and it seems that just yesterday she was a newborn in my arms. We had some of her friends over to celebrate her last single digit birthday. It was the first day of cooler weather here in Pensacola. The kids called it “freezing”, a bit of an exaggeration… The girls went outside, tried out Meg’s new jump rope, all decked out for a winter day, had a glorious time in this delightful temperature, and I pulled my camera out of the bag.

Mimi, Meg, Lizzy, and Frannie

Vive l’automne! We don’t have much of the fall leaves in the beautiful red, orange and yellow hues, but it’s still fun to toss what we have in the air,

After a few minutes of running around, the initial “freezing cold” day wore off. I love their “bad-girls-on-scooter” look!

We have many many tree frogs stuck on our front door and windows. One night I counted over 30 on our 3 porch windows! They’re tricky by the front door, because occasionally they’ll jump on us, and it’s unnerving to have one land on your head unexpectedly. We’re all trained to site them and quickly duck through the door, you won’t find my children lingering, Olivia in particular hate their sticky touch. Coco on the other hand is the great frog hunter, and can spend hours staring at the front door, willing the green thing to come play with her.
This one has found a home in my water can, and was just peering out this morning as I was drinking my tea. By no means am I a bug or insect fan, but through my macro lens I find them all fascinating. One day, I’ll make a post with Pensacola wild’s life, you won’t believe the kind of animals we have rooming around here, and the sea life (lots of interesting creatures…).

Back in Pensacola from my long trip home to France, just a week ago.  Back in front of my computer starting today.  This past week was dedicated to getting the kids ready for school, getting the house back in order (I’m not quite there yet , on all fronts, but great improvements have been accomplished).

14 years ago, as young bride, when I moved to Pensacola, FL, USA, I had fears that the great move would be difficult: going from my parent’s nest to my husband’s home, leaving my friends, giving up my medical career (I went through medical school in France and was ready to start my internship to become an OBGYN), the language barrier (even though I learned english when I was 7, I had never picked up an english book, and was clueless in humor, always laughing at the wrong time in a movie which drove Henry crazy).  I had envisioned some form of cultural shock, I was prepared for a transition period, a time to get accustomed to my new life with a mourning of the old one.  I had it so wrong!  There was no mourning, I embraced my married life, and was as happy as could be, in lala love land.

However, contradicting my predictions it has become harder with time to leave France.  I love Henry even more than I did as a young bride, but I’m now more aware of the “Dolce vita” I have in my birth country.  Life is so sweet in my dear Provence, mind you, my parents work hard at making it a heaven, with the constant flow of family and friends.  I’ve said it before, not only am I returning to the land full of memories of a blessed childhood, but I’m so lucky it’s Aix-en-Provence.  I love everything about it, the place ignites a firework of emotions and feelings: all my senses awaken.  It’s beautiful, everywhere you lay your eyes you are treated to beauty: the landscape is a patchwork of bright flowers (lavender fields, sunflower field, perfect rows of silver olive trees, vineyards…).  It’s not a flat land, there are valleys, mountains, beautiful serpentine little roads bordered by tall old trees, centuries old villages built on cliffs, with always the typical “clocher” of the church dominating the stone houses with their terra cotta roofs.  The food, do I need to explain the joy and “delices” of french food?  It’s gourmet all the time and everywhere, from the little sandwich stand in the street to the fancy restaurant (but especially in my mom’s kitchen), it is a culinary treat, your taste buds will be grateful for all the new flavors (it may cause your scale to frown…).  The sounds, who doesn’t love to hear just the french language spoken all around?  There is always music in the streets, little bands playing.  Of course, the cicadas are as loud as ever.  On the radio, I’ll hear my old favorite tunes and catch up with the latest.  As for the purely physical sense, anyone living in hot steamy Pensacola will appreciate the weather, the cool mornings and evenings (dinning under the stars everyday…), the fresh breeze, the warm temperature during the day, without the humidity.  The feel of clean clothes drying in the sun…ahhh.  This brings me to the olfaction, an other sense enjoying it’s time in Provence.  Lavender is in full bloom in the summer, and grows like dollar weed in our lawns, it’s in all gardens, balconies.  You’ll find and smell the complete bouquet of “herbes de Provence”  (savory, basil, thyme, rosemary…) on your walks.

Words just won’t do justice to my Provence, and even pictures can’t describe the source of the powerful pleasure I have when I return home.  I’m sure, though, that you get an idea of the intensity.  I had all good intentions to keep my blog going, but failed enjoying my vacation completely.  I spend quality time with so many relatives, I indulged in reading novels from my favorite french author by the pool, I did some “lèche vitrine” (literary translation: I did some store front window licking; it’s only an expression), brought back a few treasures in the process.   I had a wonderful time and it was so hard to leave.

However, at home in Pensacola, Henry and Coco were both ecstatic to have us return.  Coco did some serious happy moves, with lots of circus like jumps, maniac running around the yard, and plenty of licking for all of us.

I did have a day of what I call “productive depression” (the 2 other forms of depressions I have experienced are either eat a lot of chocolate, or cry myself in a puddle of water).  A sudden surge of organization took hold of me, and I found myself armed with a tooth brush cleaning my bathroom for a whole day, when I only intended to unpack my suitcase and put away my toiletry.  Henry walked in with a puzzled expression on his face, worried that I must be pregnant (I did go into crazy fits of nesting syndrome during my pregnancies).  I must have looked so frantic, he actually asked the question, braving all rules.  No, it was just a case of “productive depression”, and I felt much better afterwards with the added satisfaction of a perfectly organized and cleaned bathroom.

A week later I have a lot of work ahead of me, lots of images to go through, 2 beautiful weddings, a pregnancy session, a newborn, 2 lovely little girls, and 3 senior sessions waiting to be edited…  A blank schedule, but over 20 clients in line for their session.  Please be patient with me, I vow to pour my heart and soul into my work, but it takes time.

Phew, this was a long post.  Of course, I have to post a couple of pictures.  Not much though, just special memories:

This is Cezanne’s beloved Sainte Victoire, he never tired of painting her. It is a fascinating little mountain, the pride of Aix-en-Provence. This is the West side of it, the sunset projects a wide array of colors on the cliff, making it an ever changing palette, to Cezanne’s delight.

Meals are most important in our french way of living. It’s about the food, the fresh produce grown with passion by the farmer, and the social time. Dinners are hours long affairs. The setting here was a “picnic” on the Durance river, under the stars with only the moon and candles for light, to celebrate one of my relative’s birthday. The table was on a small island of “gallets” (the round stones), and looked nothing like your typical picnic with the beautiful white tablecloth, the antic white linens, the silverware and nice china. My uncle had brought a grill, and we had the most delicious grilled sardines and fish…

Eventually it was became a starry night, but before the night was complete, I took this picture of our little group enjoying their meal.

In my suitcase I carried a precious load of vegetable and strawberry seeds. I’m determined to start a vegetable garden and nurture it to produce some delicious full of flavor fruits like the ones my mother is growing. In fact, everyone was involved in their little eden. This is a pâtisson (of the zucchini family) from my aunt’s garden.

Again, just a simple, but oh so beautiful table setting at some of my parent’s friends. They eat every night like this under their tonnelle, with little lights strung under the arbor, the scent of flowers, and the gravel under their feet. It makes a typical sound when you walk on it, and that too carries a load of memories..

Not really a bug life.  Tomorrow I’m leaving with my children for my annual breath of fresh air, my return to my roots, my heaven on earth, France, precisely Aix-en-Provence.  If you’ve never been, make it a goal in your life, have it on your list of places you must see at least once.  I never tire of the landscape, the smell of lavender, the colorful markets, my native language…  One typical sound in Provence is that of the loud “cigales” (in english: cicada or commonly known as crickets).  In the summer they can be heard through out Provence, so much so, they have become somewhat of a symbol of the area.  They are not particularly beautiful creatures, but are fascinating.  In all my life in Provence, I’ve only seen one, perched on a tree.  When they hear us, or see us coming, they become real quiet, and it’s hard to find them.  This past week, in Pensacola, I’ve seen 2!!!  The first one appeared on my porch table, dead.  I immediately pulled out my camera and my macro lens and begin photographing the famous bug.  The second time, was only a couple of days later, leaving Jerry’s after a dinner with friends.  The rather big bug was outside buzzing under their porch light, and had us all ducking (around here, you would expect a flying roach… nothing too exciting to land on your body).  I’m posting the pictures I took of the dead one, on our porch.  Pretty soon, I will be happily listening to their chant, until then I have to take a couple of planes… I don’t even want to think about it.  Our trip is a long one, 7 weeks, I have several session planed in France, but first will enjoy a great family reunion for my great aunt’s 100th birthday!!!  I may not blog much for the next 10 days, but then keep visiting, because I will share some of my travels with the beauties of my home land.  It’s late, I better start to pack…
I will be checking my emails frequently, and will be able to respond, however I won’t be using my phone for the next few weeks.

This is my family’s home in “Franche Comté” (by the Switzerland border), it is several century old (built somewhere in the 1500). It holds many memories for many generations in my family. This is a spread part of a book I will be offering my parents, with last summer’s pictures.

The next 2 spreads are for my pleasure, souvenirs of the markets,

Yesterday was a big day in my son’s life.  Will got fitted for the first time with contact lenses.  He’s had bad eye sight for a couple of years, and isn’t wearing his very cool glasses all that much.  At school, he has them on occasionally to see the lesson on the black board, and then sometimes at home to watch TV, but otherwise never.  It has handicapped him playing sports, in basketball he couldn’t always make out his teammates faces, and he never really cared for tennis (probably because he can’t see the ball..).  We believe contacts will have a substantial impact in his everyday life, and we finally went to see the ophthalmologist to get him started.  We were all very excited, walking up to the office, I had him take in the surroundings carefully, so he could describe to me the difference coming out with new eyes.  In a dark room, the nurse put on his first lenses, after a couple blinks he was relatively comfortable, and amazed at all he could see.  We then, were taken to an other area, where a very nice lady tough him how to handle the contacts.  In the short walk across the hallway, he’s pointing to a far door, so excited to see the handle, he’s thrilled to see the face features of the lady standing in front of the counter, I’m beaming, so happy to have my sweet boy seeing the world, I can’t wait to take him outside.  The nice lady asks him how he likes the contacts, can he see better?  He turns around to me, with a beautiful smile on his face (I’m feeling all gooey happy), and he says: “yes, it’s great!  I mean I can see my mom’s wrinkles!”   WHAT?????  (Latter on he even talked about the sun spots on my face… I don’t have wrinkles, just expression lines)  Henry was at work, and I was texting him, a minute by minute report on the Dr.’s visit.  To Will’s last comment, he suggested I set him up in France to learn the art of courtship.  Already, a couple months ago, when all the boys in 5th grade were “going out” with girls, Will’s approach to a cute girl had us worried.  Wanting to compliment her, he told her she had “bug eyes”!!!  To her puzzled expression, he explained that just like his sweet dog, Coco, she had bulging eyes, “it’s so cute”, he tried to reassure her.  I’ve got it all planned, he’ll be getting serious help from the world’s flirt experts in South of France in just a few days.  I’m sure my dashing young cousin, a woman magnet, will take the task seriously and teach him at least a few rules about compliments.

Will has a new appreciation for our world, as he now can contemplate the leaves on trees, and like he says: “it’s like everything is in 3D, before everything just blended together”.  We drove back home and he startled me the whole way with loud WOWs at everything he seemed to discover for the first time, at 11 years old.  I’m so thankful for our modern world with all it’s technology and advanced medicine.

Will is so excited, he wants to keep forever his first pair of contacts,

My cousin, Frank, who doesn’t know it yet, but will be in charge of Will’s courtship education. Hanging lovingly to him is Magalie, she and Olivia are smitten with him. I’ve never known him to be in shortage of girl friends, he’s perfect for the job.

Trying something new. I just found out about this cool blog, I ♥ faces, which holds every week a photo contest in 2 categories (children and adult). There is a new theme each time, and this week it’s sepia tone.

I’ll enter it with my favorite image of Taylor:
(I just love the circular blur created by the “garden wire sphere” I shoot this frame through)