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joemuggs · 4 years

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DO YOU SUFFER FROM SPYMANIA?

It’s the 25th anniversary of the Spymania label, and to celebrate it they have released a record of unreleased tracks. It’s brilliant, you should buy it. In 2016 I wrote a history of the messy, messed-up, but brilliant Brighton scene that they found their feet in. Sadly it got lost in the archiving of the Red Bull Music Academy site, but I’ve still got the text, so here it is. And to prove I was there, here is me, in an inexplicably bad shirt, with the Spymania crew and friends:

Some Spymanians - far left is Hardy Spymania, next to him in blue t-shirt is Paddington Breaks, third from right leaning forward is MDK and that’s me in the bad shirt on the right.

25th Anniversary EP by SONGBIRD & WAFTA

From the town's 18th century genesis as a playground for aristocrats, Brighton has always been a space for outrageous hedonism. Being the closest point to London on the English south coast makes it an obvious place for escape and misbehaviour. With that has always come something grittier and grottier though. It's no coincidence that the best known fictional depictions of Brighton feature razor-carrying petty gangsters (Brighton Rock) and running street battles and hurried back-alley knee-tremblers (Quadrophenia). The novelist Keith Waterhouse famously said “Brighton always looks like a town helping police with their enquiries” – and it still does. Behind its facade of homeopaths, holidaymakers, students and media folk, it hides rampant corruption and organised crime, a heroin economy to match any British city, and sprawling estates that are among the country's poorest.

In the heat of the 1990s rave fervour when the world and its dog came down to Brighton to party their way through untold seven-day weekends, all of this ambiguity was expressed via a rather different electronic scene. While the superclubs along the seafront pumped to the sounds of handbag house, trance and big beat, hidden away in the nooks and crannies a techno style formed that became known on the European underground simply as “the Brighton sound” – and around it sprouted odd rave and electronica mutations that, though they might have seemed pisstakey or bloody-minded at the time, would alter the course of electronic music for a long time to come. All of this was surrounded by a dense web of art, theory, satire, in-jokes and meat-flinging cabaret, that could be perplexing, even off-putting, but has left a huge creative legacy from a tiny scene that punched way, way above its weight.

This scene of malcontents and squarepegs was by definition loose-knit – but if there was a centre to it, it was Cristian Vogel. Originally from the south Midlands, he and his friend Si Begg already had experience putting out cassette releases and primitive music software hacks (with the Cabbage Head Collective) before he came to Sussex University to study 20th Century Music in 1992. With a head full of Stockhausen and rave tapes, he was boshing out the techno, and by the end of 1994 had two releases on Dave Clarke's Magnetic North label and was resident at the Acid Box club nights in a little sticky-floored upstairs venue in Brighton's North Lanes.

This was the period when techno and hardcore were still part-fused, and along with headliners like Carl Cox and Luke Slater you could expect to hear Belgian hoover noises full-pelt gabber rolled into the more “intelligent” beats, all with nothing but relentless strobes and smoke to intensify the experience. It's a sign of how intense it was that the “chillout” in the backroom consisted of Richie Hawtin tunes playing and Tetsuo: Iron Man being shown on a couple of TVs, and felt genuinely laid back in comparison to the dancefloor. It could be shoulder-to-shoulder packed, or have ten people raving away, but it was pretty much always guaranteed to deliver mental obliteration. It's precisely this delirium you can hear in key early releases like Vogel's “Ninjah” or Tobias Schmidt's “Minus One”.

Si Begg and friends

Cristian, together with Si Begg founded Mosquito Records around this point, around which a motley crew of producers of monstrously banging but sonically razor sharp techno gathered. Neil Landstrumm, Tobias Schmidt (an ingenious pseudonym for one Toby Smith), Ibrahim Alfa and Russ Gabriel, as well as Begg and Vogel themselves, all released in the first couple of years. They were closely allied with the Scottish techno scene, notably through Landstrum but also the Sativae label run by Dave Tarrida and Steve Glenncross, and played to seething crowds north of the border, as well as absolutely huge ones in Germany, Poland and further afield. Yet even though the audiences were tiny back on the south coast, the local brand was inescapable: indeed Si Begg, who lived in London right through the nineties, recalls with some bafflement seeing untold German flyers with “BRIGHTON TECHNO” in big letters under his name.

All of this was great, but taken alone could simply have been another local flavour on the international techno scene. The four-to-the-floor certainly remained the heartbeat of the scene as The Acid Box became The Box, which became Defunkt, which became Freekin' The Frame, and the techno dons kept coming through: Blake Baxter, Shake Shakir, Claude Young, Beltram, Weatherall, Surgeon, Bandulu... but very quickly, things became about more than just that. There was a strongly disruptive element from the beginning in the form of a close alliance with the Brighton “clench” of the Church Of The SubGenius. If you don't know about the Church, that's a whole other rabbit hole to fall down, but for our purposes it's enough to know that the local bunch existed on the fringes of freeparty soundsystem culture and subverted its tendencies to crypto-mystical bollocks, and were big on collage and stencil graffiti, heavy punning streams of consciousness (“Bulldada” in the SubGenius parlance), mischief disguised as culture and vice versa.

Heavily influenced by this SubGenius mischief was Mat Consume, in-house designer, computer animator and frequent back-room DJ for the Vogel-related axis. His art, brain-bent ranting and noisily experimental sets became a vital part of the identity of the scene, helping coalesce obsessions with punk and Situationism and ambivalent embrace of digital progress among Vogel and compadres to the point where when they formed an umbrella organisation for their activities it was natural to call it No Future. Held loosely together by Vogel's partner and manager Emma Sola this acted as a booking agency for various acts, but just as much felt like a chaotic but fiercely independent joint art project between Vogel, Sola and Consume, throwing ideas and aesthetic forms out into the underground and forging alliances with equally bloody-minded creators.

Emma Sola

These included the likes of Canadian filmmaker and stencil artist Pablo Fiasco; animators and sound artists Ruth Jarman and Joe Gerhardt aka Semiconductor; non-techno eclecticist club collectives Mufflewuffle and Slack; the combative cabaret night That Stupid Club which would feature subcultural saboteurs like Stewart Home, Dennis Cooper and The Divine David; and another more rave-influenced cabaret night called Monkey's Lounge full of spoken word, off-colour comedy, offal-flinging and pints-of-piss-drinking, run and compered by... um... me (under the names Rimmington Snuffporn Esq and DJ Dead, with help from my music production and DJ partner Jeffrey Disastronaut). It was at a Monkey's Lounge session that Consume physically pushed Jamie Lidell – already widely known as a wildly innovative techno producer via the Subhead collective and their Growth parties – on stage with the house band Balzac, immediately kickstarting a long running residency as their singer and marking the beginning of a performing career that still continues.

Tom “Squarepusher” Jenkinson and Hardy Spymania

Possibly the most important alliance of all, though, was with the Spymania crew. Their social circle was a motley bunch of Londoners, Midlanders and most notably a large contingent from Chelmsford, Essex. Many of the latter had been to school with Tom Jenkinson, a musician known originally as Stereotype and then, when the Spymania label itself was formed by Paul Fowler and brighton-based Hardy Finn, as Squarepusher. Their ethos was preposterous in all ways, fuelled by unstable fusions of questing intellects and Essex swagger. As teenagers they first congregated around a Chelmsford club night called Club Trout, run by future scene mainstay Jane Mitchell (and later exported to Brighton as Smooth But Halibut); they smoked themselves sarcastic to early tapes made by their friends Cassetteboy; everything they did was shot through with skater-stoner-hardcore-raver pisstake attitude. Their rickety old website, which remains live today, still gives a hint of all this. http://www.spymania.com/pgs/hardcore.html

Yet these were musical connoisseurs too, assiduously collecting hip hop, acid, Detroit techno, British electronica, and especially in the case of Martin “MDK” Wood, death metal, gindcore and anarcho punk. This pile-up of musical expertise and sarky dicking about was there from the first release, Squarepusher's Conumber EP – which featured everything from a track that was nothing more than a timestretched Jenkinson asking “can anyone lend me a fiver” to the jungle-acid fusions that would literally redefine how electronica was made from the Aphex Twin on down for the rest of the 1990s. The Spymania records that followed touched on illbient mismatched time signatures, Drexciyan electro-funk, Deicide samples, eerily blissed out atmospherics, Cassetteboy's peurile genius (via offshoot label Barry's Bootlegs), and a dozen more awkward twists and turns besides, always brain-frying, always funny, never settling on any sound that offered the casual listener an easy handle on what was going on.

A standardly Dada Spymania cover

This added up to a refreshing antidote to the chin-fondling seriousness and purism of much of the electronica scene. And when Finn, Wood and friends went raving at the Acid Box, they naturally found a kindred spirit in Mat Consume who would design almost all the Spymania sleeves, their grainy photocopy style a counterpoint to the garish clashing computer images and animated dancing baby skeletons of his No Future work. They in turn helped inspire Consume, with the urbane Lynton Million (a university friend of Jamie Lidell's), to set up Trash Records.

Trash was a label that would take the horrible and confrontational side of the scene to extremes, with anger and ugliness from label mainstays including DJ Paedofile, Chuck Shite and Shit & Cheap (aka Consume & Landstrumm – sample track name: “SuckingCocksForFishheads”), as well as impossibly intricate turns from the likes of Liddell and another Chelmsfordian Squarepusher contemporary and Rephlex recording artist, Matt Yee-King. Si Begg, too, was close to the Spymania team, and launched the rather more good-natured but equally ridiculous Noodles family of labels, featuring a slew of collaborations and AKAs (including Hardy Spymania's pleasingly literal Barry Pseudonym) from the No Future and Spymania families.

It was a messy and disparate little scene. The bulk of the rave action took place in the big clubs of Germany and the rest of Europe, but the creative processes were at least as much about what happened in smoky shared flats and workshops in Brighton's tatty backstreets as they were about big dancefloors. Vogel once described his metier as “the drug pub rant”, and a lot of work sprung from precisely these. Continually, though, the bulk of Brighton club culture, from the seafront clubs to the free parties on the beaches and Downs, tended to look askance at the belligerence and deliberate obfuscations of the No Future axis, or more often simply ignore it all. Perhaps the glorious cresting of the first wave of activity, and probably this scene's peak visibility in Brighton full stop, was at the Brighton Dance Parade of 1997. This attempt to replicate Berlin's Love Parade was never to be repeated – hippie mismanagement and Brighton's endemic corruption saw to that – but for one day only the ravers had their literal day in the sun.

The Trash crew: top - Consume, Hunter & Million / middle - Million & Consume / bottom - Cristian Vogel & Million

There, among floats pumping out free party trance and funky house, the No Future bus – stencilled all over by Pablo Fiasco with pictures of dead rock stars, and with a stunningly crsip rig playing weaponised techno whose angles and curves were a thousand times sharper and more present than any other music on the day – stood out like a septic thumb. This was also the year that Vogel's musical partnership with Lidell began in earnest – with Lidell's furious remix of Vogel's “(Don't) Take More”, which remains a brain-damage anthem to this day in some quarters, and their first release as the mutant electronic funk duo Super_Collider, “Darn (Cold Way O Loving)”. The latter track, amazingly, emerged on a major label, thanks to it being signed by Skint parent label Loaded, in turn licensed through Sony. It was a year to wave the freak flag high.

Despite untold hard drugs, fights and the incestuous nature of a town as small as Brighton, the scene and the various record labels involved remained vigorous and continued to diversify right through the last years of the nineties and into the new millennium. Super_Collider released one album on Loaded, and another on Rise Robots Rise, the label created by Vogel and Sola for ever more varied output including Catalan girl-punk and German dancehall. Lidell's ultra-experimental first solo album, Muddlin Gear, came out as a joint venture between Spymania and WARP in 2000, accompanied by deranged artwork and live films by Pablo Fiasco. Bands increasingly became part of the mix: whispering neo-Krautrockers Fujiya & Miyagi (on Paul Spymania's Massive Advance imprint), the terrifying Wevie Stonder (who he managed) and space-pop group Chungking (which I was in for a couple of years, and whose multi-instrumentalist James Stephenson played bass for Super_Collider live, creating a Chelmsford rhythm section with Matt Yee-King on drums - both of these two had also been in the aforementioned Balzac too).

No Future’s logo, designed with typical aggression by Consume

There were prominent fans too. John Peel asked the Trash collective to open Meltdown Festival in 1998. Thom Yorke and Radiohead's resident artist Stanley Donwood designed t-shirts for No Future. Vogel is namechecked on the Sabres Of Paradise Haunted Dancehall album, and Andrew Weatherall would frequently call him up, dumbfounded at his latest sonic advances. One memorable 1999 awayday for the Freekin' The Frame club to The End in London saw Róisín Murphy jumping on stage after the live Super_Collider show to duet with Lidell on an impromptu version of “Once in a Lifetime”, a very young Kieran Hebden repping UK garage, Chicks On Speed shouting their hearts out, and Chris Cunningham playing long segments of white noise to puzzled ravers, as well as sets from various No Future / Spymania stalwarts.

Inevitably, like all but the very biggest musical scenes, the micro-one in Brighton dissipated as people grew up, fucked up, or moved on – but its echoes continue. Vogel and Landstrumm continue to be significant forces in electronic music, both as influences on the post-Blawan generation and as musicians in their own right. Si Begg is a respected sound designer and composer. Matt Yee-King runs the computer music course at Goldsmiths college, and is a big noise on the “Algorave” scene. Paul Spymania is an artist manager and agent, and along with Scuba, brought dubstep to Berlin in the legendary Sub:Stance sessions. Semiconductor became artists in residence for NASA, among many other extraordinary commissions. Jamie Lidell supported Elton John. Consume is in Bristol, currently working on a giant mural of DJ Derek. Lynton Million lives on a small island, selling whisky. Ibrahim Alfa took several sharp diversions that are an epic tale in their own right, and is only now picking up where he left off with a Workshop issue of his “lost” album Once Upon a Time in Brighton. And so it goes on...

Unlike some electronic scenes, the one in Brighton was never particularly chic (although it certainly had massive cultural cachet in a few countries if not at home), and its records don't necessarily fetch silly money on discogs (like that's a measure of value, right?). But out of a tiny techno club and its committed few regulars grew something that filled an entire decade with utterly extraordinary art, music, humour and ideas, and which still has relevance and resonance for smart creative minds many years on. Those messy, aggro, awkward bunch of ravers and jokers somehow managed to hold it together just enough to build a creative world entirely of their own, with its own rules and its own distinctive identity: what more can artists hope for?

This history is dedicated to James Phillips, a vital part of this scene and always 100% one of the good guys. RIP

Some tunes:

Cristian Vogel: Ninjah https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ydOFHo9JtI

Tobias Schmidt: Minus One https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YjozNVF7_I

MDK: Sound of Saturday https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV3KQHGxmcg

Subhead: Ruction (produced by Jamie Lidell) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5vNX_ylRQM

Squarepusher: Sarcacid https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IY6cvGnVCA

Cristian Vogel: Bite & Scratch (Blake Baxter Detroit Mix) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXIB7I3D7ss

DJ Paedofile: I was Rise in Clouds https://youtu.be/WcyrrAwqaQY

Buckfunk 3000 (Si Begg): Future Shock Planet Rock https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp4b6PE0FkY

Cristian Vogel: Sarcastically Tempered Powers http://youtu.be/Q2G3204pfkY

Yee King: Goodnight Toby https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbnZuv3xHog

Super_Collider: Darn https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dh2kauFcGpw

No Future at Brighton Love Parade: https://vimeo.com/119001501

#brighton #rave #techno #electronica #drill'n'bass #spymania #wonky techno #experimental music #subgenius #maniacs #too much marijuana #white lightning

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alexriehman · 4 years

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Trip to Bridgeport

In the second week of Chicago excursions I was assigned to explore the neighborhood of Bridgeport. Bridgeport is located in the city’s south side, the neighborhood is confined to the north by the south branch of the Chicago river stretching south to Pershing Road. Laterally the neighborhood spans from the Union Pacific Railroad tracks in the east, to Bubbly Creek in the west. Bridgeport possesses the title as the oldest neighborhood in the city of Chicago, officially becoming Bridgeport Township in 1863. The history of Bridgeport and what survives today projects different stories about the neighborhood. Originally an Irish enclave of industry, Bridgeport today is ethnically diverse with many varying socioeconomic levels residing in the neighborhood.

Map of Bridgeport

Industry began to boom in Bridgeport around 1830 when Stearns’ Quarry established a limestone quarry, dynamiting in the neighborhood until 1969 (Bloom, 2020). Industrialization swallowed the area, by 1905 the first privately owned and managed industrial park was established, called the Central Manufacturing District. The owners of the park invested into the neighborhood, building roads, public emergency services, a bank, and even leisure businesses. The demographic composed today in Bridgeport one will find around two of five residents being Asian, and one of five residents being of Hispanic dissent (Statistical Atlas, 2020). Immigrants from the old world flooded Bridgeport in aims for a working job. The Irish flooded the neighborhood first, soon to follow were northern and eastern European immigrants. Important to the neighborhood during the beginning of the 20th century was the railroad construction nearby (Bloom, 2020). Many of the workers who recently migrated were Mexican, who established homes in the neighborhood (Bloom, 2020). The remainder of the 20th century and leading to modern day, Bridgeport witnessed many Asian immigrants moving to the area. Being within close proximity to the city’s long-standing, well-established Chinatown district. Also residing near the historic district of Bronzeville, the population consists of African American and Hispanic dwellers.

What was once a booming sector of industry, today Bridgeport is now a cultural center for art and diversity. The neighborhood although slightly large on scale, is entitled to a strong sense of community. This strong sense of community may be one such production of the deeply rooted religious structures seen very visibly throughout the neighborhood. Apparent to the neighborhood is its nonsecular nature, with many ornate and magnificent churches. Also clearly apparent in Bridgeport, is the neighborhood’s lust for art, specifically modern, urban art; two art centers stand just a stone’s throw apart from one another. To note as well is the neighborhood repurposing efforts to transition areas of industry into public spaces. Many parks are scattered throughout Bridgeport today. On my visit to the neighborhood I was able to explore one of these parks, also I witnessed a few churches, and was able to tour the neighborhood’s art center.

During the Friday excursion of the neighborhood, I began my day at the Bridgeport Art Center. The art center is located on 35th Street, at 1200 West 35th Street, in the central manufacturing district; once the location for the Spiegel Catalog warehouse. Established in 2001, the Bridgeport Art Center is focused to continuously serve as a resource for creative minds, and to be the beacon for the innovating Chicago art scene (Bridgeport Art Center, 2020). The art center is home to numerous artists, designers, and working professionals. Incredibly, I was fortunate enough and one of the first to attend the art center on the same day of its 4th Floor Gallery opening reception. The gallery’s newest theme entitled ‘Where’s the Revolution,’ is an exhibition featuring political art expressing varying points of view of global politics and social justice standards (Bridgeport Art Center, 2020). The exhibits displayed depict themes current to modern issues in America. At the forefront of the exhibits were criticisms of the current presidency, as well as the extremely salient movement of Black Lives Matter. In one work the artist depicts the final words of George Floyd, “I can’t breathe.” The artistic piece utilizes yarn on canvas to depict the final words, in the artist’s own words, “lives holding by a thread.” Many of the artistic works also present an underlying theme of police brutality targeted against racial minorities.

I Can’t Breathe by Pinar Aral

Floyd by Victoria Goite

Although the 4th Floor Gallery was fascinating to explore and witness, I was able to meet and discuss with internationally acclaimed Italian sculptor, Virginio Ferrari. During my walkthrough of the 4th Floor Gallery I was confronted by a waste management consultant who worked in the building. He thought it would be an advantageous opportunity to meet and have a dialogue with Ferrari. I agreed to his opportunity and he escorted me to Ferrari’s work space in the basement of the building.

Virginio Ferrari’s Workshop in Bridgeport Art Center

I had the ability to have a personal tour of Ferrari’s shop by the man himself. He discussed his life story and beginnings of his artistic career. Mentored by his father and grandfather in the trade of stone cutting, Ferrari learned respect for the craft, and has continued his family’s legacy since. Ferrari is an immigrant of Italy who migrated to Chicago in the 1960s. After his migration to Chicago, Ferrari would serve for one decade as the Assistant Professor of Art and Sculptor in Residence, at the prestigious University of Chicago (Ferrari, 2020). Ferrari has thirty monumental pieces alone in Chicago, and other works can be witnessed all over the world, with sculptures located in Europe, Asia, and throughout the continental United States. Some of his most notable works found in Chicago include the Being Born exhibition near the Ohio Feeder Ramp in Riverside North, as well as the controversial exhibit Dialogo, which casts a shadow annually on May Day that depicts the Communist sickle and hammer (Ferrari, 2020). Even at the age of eighty-three year, Ferrari is still active with his craftsmanship, constantly creating new sculptures in his Bridgeport workspace.

Being Born by Virginio Ferrari

Although the opportunity to meet the world renowned sculptor, Virginio Ferrari, was incredibly exciting, there was still more to see of the neighborhood. After my visit to the Bridgeport Art Center, I continued my morning walkthrough of Bridgeport by viewing a couple of churches located in near proximity. The first church I was able to visit was the Roman Catholic Church of St. Mary of Perpetual Help. This church has been standing in Bridgeport since 1882 (St. Mary of Perpetual Help Church, 2020). Its establishment was influenced by the growing Polish immigrant population in the area. It served as a community home for these Polish immigrants, and still serves today as the parish for the Catholic girl high school, De La Salle Institute. The building itself is magnificent with elaborate towers and a colossal dome, with intricate detailing found all over the building.

St. Mary of Perpetual Help Church, 1039 West 32nd Street

After my walk by the St. Mary Church, I was able to see the Monastery of the Holy Cross. This monastery was established a century later than the previous parish discussed, in 1988. Although the monastery was established in 1988, the building in which the monastery resides was once the home of a Polish parish, the Immaculate Conception Church (Monastery of the Holy Cross, 2020). The Monastery of the Holy Cross was founded by three missionary priests who sought out to combat the challenges of evangelization in the modern world (Monastery of the Holy Cross, 2020). The priest's mission was evangelization of the modern ‘desert’ of the city, which faces issues of violence, alienation, and spiritual poverty (Monastery of the Holy Cross, 2020). To comment on the building, the monastery is found at the location of the former Immaculate Conception church. The building although simple in design, with a only singular vertical turret attached, is known for its beauty. The sheer height of the tower was quite remarkable to witness in person.

Monastery of the Holy Cross, 3111 South Aberdeen Street

As the end of my trip neared, I decided to visit one of the local parks in the neighborhood. Located at 2700 South Halsted Street, in the heart of the Bridgeport neighborhood, I was able to visit the Palmisano Park and Quarry. Prior to the park, the area was most well known for the Stearns’ Quarry, in which massive amounts of limestone were extracted from the earth. This twenty-six acre site offers a bountiful amount of activities for visitors to enjoy. The park includes a fishing pond, interpretive wetlands, preserved quarry walls, trails, an athletic field, a running track, and over one and a half miles of walking trails (Chicago Park District, 2020). The park itself was gorgeous to walk around. It provided an incredible view of the Chicago skyline, and most notably preserves the land of the neighborhood. This park was very refreshing to experience. Being in the city can be overwhelming with the lack of green space, but the Palmisano Park adds a much needed escape from the urban environment. It is hard to imagine, but the natural landscape of Chicago is composed of a marsh, and this is made very apparent through the park. Tall grasses and a pond were just two obvious features of the park displaying marsh characteristics. It was a pleasant surprise to discover this park. Even though I have been living in the area for two years now, it was exciting to explore a new green space in close relation to my university.

View of Chicago Skyline from Palmisano Park

Fishing Pond at Palmisano Park

Looking back on my trip to Bridgeport, the neighborhood is a multicultural enclave in a new emerging art scene. The oldest neighborhood of the city of Chicago surprised me with its numerous cultural identities. Initially founded by mainly Irish immigrants, the neighborhood has transformed its identity through the inclusion of other minorities. Immigrants from Mexico and Asia have built a new home for themselves in the neighborhood. The city in its past has been considered segregated, but this was not the impression I felt during my visit to the neighborhood. Bridgeport if anything, is a hub of acceptance and integration, consisting of many varying cultural and ethnic backgrounds. Made apparent by the religious institutions littered around the neighborhood, Bridgeport is a melting pot of culture, history, and art. Some individuals debate whether or not Bridgeport is the next ‘hipster’ neighborhood. I think that Bridgeport has the potential to grow to be this hipster hub. With two art centers already established in the neighborhood, along with a collection of unique restaurants, and public spaces for neighborhood residents to enjoy; Bridgeport, although the oldest neighborhood, is still transforming and staying up-to-date with cultural and social activities. I would recommend any visitor of Chicago to explore Bridgeport. As illustrated previously throughout this post, the neighborhood is compiled of varying commercial, religious, residential, and public spaces. Also home to the Chicago White Sox, the neighborhood offers plenty of activities for visitors to expierence. Bridgeport is a neighborhood of detailed and extensive history, but it is still transforming to serve the needs of its people.

Sources

Bloom, J. G. (2012). Images of America: Bridgeport. Retrieved September 25,2020, from https://www.google.com/books/edition/Bridgeport/JpjWCdLKyzEC?hl=en

Bridgeport Art Center. (2020). 4th Floor Gallery. Retrieved September 25, 2020, from https://bridgeportart.com/

Ferrari, M. G. (2020, September 02). Virginio Ferrari Foundation. Retrieved September 25, 2020, from https://virginioferrarifoundation.org/

St. Mary of Perpetual Help Church. (2020). History. Retrieved September 25, 2020, from http://www.stmaryofperpetualhelp.com/p/history-of-our-church.html

Monastery of the Holy Cross. (2020). Our History. Retrieved September 25, 2020, from https://chicagomonk.org/about-us/our-history/

Chicago Park District. (2020). Palmisano Park. Retrieved September 25, 2020, from https://www.chicagoparkdistrict.com/parks-facilities/palmisano-henry-park

Statistical Atlas. (2020). Race and Ethnicity in Bridgeport, Chicago, Illinois. Retrieved September 25, 2020 from https://statisticalatlas.com/neighborhood/Illinois/Chicago/Bridgeport/Race-and-Ethnicity

Photos

All of the photos illustrated throughout the blog were taken by me except for the following images:

Map of Bridgeport:

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Bridgeport/JpjWCdLKyzEC?hl=en

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dustinreidmusic · 5 years

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Mac's Wild Years: By Michael Hurtt. Originally published in Offbeat Magazine

Mac Rebennack was born in 1941. Dr. John was born in 1967. What happened in between would color his whole musical career. "In New Orleans, everything--food, music, religion, even the way people talk and act--has deep, deep roots; and, like the tangled veins of cypress roots that meander this way and that in the swamp, everything in New Orleans is interrelated, wrapped around itself in ways that aren't always obvious."--Mac Rebennack In 1967, Malcolm Rebennack, Jr., exiled to the West Coast after a final drug bust that forbid him "to go to or through New Orleans," donned face paint, glitter and plumes and emerged as Dr. John the Night Tripper. His debut album Gris-Gris, and the stage shows that followed it, hawked a brand of psychedelic New Orleans R&B that mixed Mardi Gras Indian street chants with the primal gospel of holiness churches, the pianistic funk of Professor Longhair, heavy doses of hoodoo mysticism and nearly every shred of ritualistic South Louisiana culture that he'd absorbed during his decade and a half in the New Orleans music scene. From the drag shows at the Dew Drop Inn to the electric guitar evangelizing of the Reverend Utah Smith, it was a netherworld far stranger and more colorful than anything the pioneer of voodoo rock could have dreamed up. His role in it, though often been eclipsed by his later metamorphosis, established a reputation that would inform every aspect of his later musical life. Populated by high school greasers, high-rolling gangsters, down-and-out dope fiends and jive-talking record men, it was a world that had rapidly begun evaporating with the election of District Attorney Earling Carothers "Jim" Garrison in 1961. Prior to his widely known investigation into the Kennedy assassination, Garrison made his name locally by leading a systematic crack down on Crescent City vice that padlocked night clubs, juke joints and gambling dens. He often led the raids himself, pistol in hand, and by 1963 had managed to single-handedly dismantle the around-the-clock-party that had been Rebennack's entire young life. It had been one of after-hours jam sessions that lasted well into the next day, followed by "record dates" that produced aural snapshots that just reeked with crazed rock 'n' roll atmosphere: Jerry Byrne's frantic "Lights Out" and "Carry On," Roland Stone's narcotic anthem "Junco Partner," and Mac's own sinister, tremelo-charged "Storm Warning." "If we didn't have an artist and we had some studio time we'd just be the artist," Rebennack says of the sessions that produced hundreds of singles under monikers from Ronnie and the Delinquents to Drits and Dravy. The former's 1959 "Bad Neighborhood" was a greasy period piece if there ever was one. Meant to commemorate "the end of the zoot suit era," its gleeful lines of "Lie, steal, drink all day / good folks try to keep away," was an outright celebration of the lifestyle that Garrison sought to eliminate. And the Delinquents moniker was really no joke. "When we hired Ronnie Barron to be the singer with us, he was a li'l thug," says Rebennack, who'd had remarkably bad luck with great front men thus far. "We lost more singers to the penitentiary," he says, naming nearly everyone who preceded Barron with the exception of Frankie Ford. "Deadeye went to the joint for manslaughter, Jerry Byrne fell and went up for statutory rape, then Roland Stone went up on narcotics." Local disc jockey Jim Stewart once recalled that Rebennack's teenage bands "were always high, always late." But somehow through the haze, Mac would manage to simultaneously wear the hats of talent scout, A&R man, composer, producer, arranger, session musician, and when the need arose, singer. It might have stayed that way had Barron not refused to take on the Dr. John persona, which was invented with him in mind. Rebennack had started flirting with drugs when he was 12, already well seasoned in the art of skipping school and Mass to catch the street car to the early morning R&B jams at the Brass Rail. Since his father owned an appliance store that serviced jukeboxes, his childhood was spent wearing out stacks of hillbilly, jazz and blues 78s when they came off the boxes. Schooled on "Pinetop's Boogie Woogie" by his piano-playing aunt, he soon took up the guitar. By the time rock 'n' roll hit during his freshman year at Jesuit High School, he was more than ready. At Jesuit, Rebennack formed his first band the Dominos, with Henry Guerineau, then joined Guerineau's the Spades with whom he played "the Holy Father Circuit," as he refers it, starring at CYO dances from Redemptorist in the Irish Channel to Saint Anthony's in Mid-City. His teachers were current and future Fats Domino guitarists Papoose Nelson and Roy Montrell, who took an axe to young Mac's brand new green and black Harmony guitar. "He broke it all up, called my Pa and said, 'Mr. Rebennack, I ain't teachin' your son on that piece of shit. Go pick him out something nice.' I thought I was going to get killed. My Pa was hip, though. He knew it wasn't about the guitar as much as having that guitar to bring on the gig." Montrell took Mac to a pawnshop where he picked out a Gibson that he worked off lugging appliances for his dad. "My father didn't say a word til later," Rebennack wrote in his autobiography Under a Hoodoo Moon. "Apparently Roy had taken him aside and told him, 'I taught your son a lesson, that you don't get things because of the way they look. You get them on how they work." "He had a way of teaching that kept me coming back for more. During the lesson, he strung me along with ordinary riffs--but then right at the end he'd play some killer lick, his back turned so I couldn't see his fingers, and say, 'Hey, wanna learn that shit, kid? Come back next week. Now get the fuck outta here." Having already met studio owner Cosimo Matassa, who was a friend of his father, Rebennack spent his schooldays honing his songwriting skills. "Man, I used to go to school, I had a couple of comic books where the outside cover looked like a loose leaf binder. And I'd sit there in class reading that. They thought I was doing something in school but I'd be sitting there writing songs, ripping them off from Mad or Tales from the Crypt." He'd also begun hanging out at Warren Easton High School on Canal Street, a hotbed of hip musical activity that had already birthed New Orleans first bona-fide white rock 'n' roll band, the Sparks. It was here that he first encountered saxophonist Leonard James, whose band was blasting out a set of Sam Butera songs in the school gymnasium. It turned out that James knew all about the Brass Rail too, and dug the same hard-driving sounds as Rebennack did. They were soon rehearsing at James' house in the notorious St. Roch park neighborhood with guitarist Earl Stanley--now playing the recently introduced electric bass--and drummer Paul Staehle. "Leonard lived on Robertson not too far from the park and Stanley used to live around there on Dauphine," Rebennack says. "One of the things St. Roch Park was known for was as a good cop spot. St. Roch church was famous, too, because they'd take the grease out the bells by the cemetery, mix it with some graveyard dirt and some gun powder, add extra nitrate and put that all together with Patchouli oil to make goofy dust. Now, what you did with it was according to how rank a motherfucker you were." The mysterious worlds of drugs and hoodoo fascinated young Mac, but in his new musical partners he found an even deeper magic. "Paul Staehle was bad. I remember him having drum battles with Edward Blackwell and all the top drummers. And Stanley had a finger-plucking style of guitar like Snooks did, North Mexican shit that he'd learned from his daddy. He was into Earl King and Guitar Slim just like I was. We liked those cats because they did something different." Rebennack had picked up on the flamboyance of his guitar heroes a little too acutely for the priests at Jesuit, who'd brought his high school career to a halt after a Christmas talent show where they accused him of making "lewd gyrations" with his instrument. The real beef, Henry Guerineau later told Tad Jones, was that they were playing R&B instead of big band swing or Dixieland. "At the time," he recalled, "it was heresy." Stanley, who became the Spades' guitarist after Rebennack left the band, was having his own issues over at Nicholls High. "I used to hang with the gangsters, all the tough guys," Stanley says. "I was so bad they threw me out of Nicholls but they couldn't throw me out of school. So they asked me to leave and I went to McDonough on Esplanade for a couple of months, then I quit when I was 15. That was in '55. "I didn't know Mac when he was in the Spades. I just remember seeing him playing guitar at the dances. I thought, 'That guy's pretty good.' Then I got with Leonard and through Leonard I met Mac. They had a guy playing piano with them, Hal Farrar, he went by the stage names 'King Helo Attaro' and 'Spider Boy.' Now Hal was a character, he was the character of them all; the main lunatic. He liked to drink vodka, he could care less about anything, just a wild man. He used to have this Cugat jacket he'd wear and he'd play piano and try to do all of Little Richard's stuff. He even had the little moustache. In fact, he recorded the original demo of 'I've Been Hoodood' (later to become the flip side of the Dr. John hit "Right Place, Wrong Time") with Leonard." Vocalists Wayne "Deadeye" Herring and Jerry Byrne were also drifting into the group at this point. "We used to do the old low-down blues," Herring told Jones. "There weren't too many white bands that could do it. Back then if you sat in with a black band, boy, they'd jump on your ass when you come outside. People took a dim view of that but we did it anyway." While band names revolved from the Skyliners to the Loafers to the Night Trains to the Thunderbirds, the foundation remained James, Rebennack, Stanley and Staehle. "Crippled" Eddie Hynes and Eddie Shroeder often floated in on trombone and baritone sax respectively. "Whether it was Leonard's band or my band, it was all pretty much the same crew of guys," says Rebennack, "Nothing really changed other than we changed the name of the band quite frequently. It kinda helped us get some gigs and win some talent shows. We lost them under one name and won them under another." The core foursome debuted on wax with an album of raunchy guitar and sax instrumentals, Boppin' and A Strollin' with Leonard James, recorded for Decca in 1956. Rough, ready and loose, the LP was the perfect soundtrack of noir New Orleans; at once evocative of French Quarter strip joints, high school dances and hood hangouts like the Rockery Inn. Along with discs like the Saxons' "Camel Walk' and the Sparks' "Merry Mary Lou," it stands as a testament to city's incredibly potent--but often obscured--white rock 'n' roll underground. "Leonard always took pride in combing his ducktail perfect," recalls Rebennack. "I mean, he would stand in front the mirror for an hour and then put his be-bop cap on--perfect. He had his little zoot suit pressed, more than the rest of us. We'd just wear them. They were the kind that didn't wrinkle any way. "Leonard was a great hustler. He used to walk in joints where they never had a band in their life. I remember us getting a gig in the Ninth Ward at a grocery store. Leonard conned this guy into hiring us but he wanted country music. We didn't know any country music so we'd play 'Comin' Around the Mountain' or whatever. As long as we were working, we didn't care nothing about none of the rest of it." From dives like the Club Leoma, the Blue Cat and the Jet Lounge, they moved up to the Clock on St. Charles Avenue and finally, the Brass Rail. "While we were working there Paul Gayten says, 'If y'all want to keep the gig, you're going to have to quit playing songs like the record.' And that became kind of a theme with our band. We didn't play them like the records, we played them our way." Gayten also took issue with their slightly out-of-date stage wear. "We had the same suits for so long that I don't think anybody ever considered getting new uniforms until Paul started fuckin' with us: 'Nobody wears zoot suits in Chicago; they wear continental suits.' Man, here we had all our money invested in these royal blue zoot suits. And what do we do? We got some new suits from Harry Hyman's or old man Sutton's on South Rampart--continental suits--and we wore them in Gretna when they had a gang fight at Cass's Lounge. They throwed us all in the drainage ditch out behind the joint. We ruined our new suits and we hadn't even paid for them yet! "When we worked at any of them joints on the West Bank, shit happened. At Spec's Moulin Rouge, old man Spec used to have guys walking around with pieces dressed like police but they wasn't official police, they was just guys who worked for old man Spec. Gang fights was, like, prevalent. When the Choctaw Boys and the Cherokees would have their annual beef at the Wego Inn on the Hill, it would be around Carnival. And it would be like, 'Goddamn.' You know the shit's going to happen; it's just when it's going happen. I would be trying to play close to the slot machines that were on the bandstand because I figured the slots could deal with the slugs better than me. When I saw anything that looked like it could be trouble, I'd back up toward the slots. But this is the kind of shit you had to endure back in them days because you were dealing with a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. And we were crazy, too." If there was one song that distilled the insanity into the length of a 45 RPM record, it was Rebennack's "Lights Out," cut by Jerry Byrne for Specialty in 1958. Punctuated by stop-time drum breaks, a foghorn-like saxophone riff and a searing piano solo courtesy of Art Neville, "Lights Out" has justifiably been called "the perfect rock 'n' roll song." Byrne's breakneck vocal nods to a personality so bent on bringing the house down that fights--and sometimes worse--often ensued. "Jerry was one of them suckers who worked the house," says Rebennack, "but he was a piece of work. He drove me crazy a number of times in my life. He was special with that. Hey, guys wanted to shoot me over things Jerry did. He had the ability to kick up more shit with more motherfuckers than anybody I know." In 1959, Byrne cut Mac's equally boisterous "Carry On" and then got sent to prison on a trumped-up statutory rape charge. Deadeye was already behind bars. "It was a never-ending thing," says Stanley, "just make a record and things happen, you know?" Despite the trouble, says Rebennack, "our band was really popular." They'd toured with Frankie Ford behind "Sea Cruise" and Byrne behind "Lights Out" as well as backing the traveling rock 'n' roll caravans at both the Municipal Auditorium and Pontchartrain Beach Amusement Park. And the records kept coming, from Bobby Lonero's "Little Bit" to Morgus and the Ghouls' "Morgus the Magnificent." "I don't think any of us thought that much about doing a record date," reflects Rebennack. "The gigs were the fun part. When I started working for Joe Ruffino's record company, Joe asked my daddy if I could be the president of the company and my daddy says, 'What are you crazy? This boy can't even find his fuckin' shoes!' But there were so many guys we did sessions for like Andy Blanco at Drew-blan in Morgan City and a bunch of other guys that had different little labels in the country. We played on all of Cos's Rex stuff and then we did a lot of crazy stuff all through the days we were working for Johnny Vincent over at Ace. I remember we stole 'Jimmy Crack Corn' and called it 'Ain't No Use.' We cut 'Row Your Boat' with Big Boy Myles. And I don't know how many different versions of 'Junco Partner' we cut with Roland Stone. We were some plagiarizing motherfuckers." Stone, the most prolific of Rebennack's vocalists on record, had already blazed the white R&B trail with local luminaries the Jokers when he waxed the regional smash "Just a Moment" with Rebennack in 1961. His entrance roughly coincided with the departure of Leonard James, who was replaced by Charlie Maduell after he joined the Air Force. "Charlie was just as crazy as Leonard was, but Leonard never got high. On the other hand, Charlie fit right in with the rest of us because he liked the narcotics, too. Probably the only one that wasn't a really serious drug addict was Stanley. If we were somewhere in the country, we would burglarize drug stores. When we were in the city, we forged 'scripts. We were strung out dope fiends, what the hell you going to do? There was a pharmacy on the corner of Dorgenois and Canal that used to sell to all the dope fiends. You had to go in there and ask for certain things, that's when I started getting my collection of Mad comic books together. If I got a comic book and a bag of pork rinds, that meant I wanted some opiates. Everything you ordered meant something else. We used to have so much fun that who'd have ever thought we'd wind up in jail? "My favorite gig was when Roland was singing with us and we started working at Little Club Forest on Jefferson Highway. At Club Forest, you could tell what audience hit because when all the junkies would come in, they'd just want to hear 'Junco Partner' over and over. When the whores came in they'd want to hear whatever their song was that night. So there were all these songs that fit the set. That gig was so fuckin' off the hook, so much crazy shit happened at that gig alone, I couldn't even describe it. "Between Charlie Maduell and Paul Staehle, they would always hide the stash for the band. One night they had a raid and Paul had the whole band's stash in his sock. They didn't shake us down, but the FBI came in and they emptied the joint. Somebody paid everyone's bond and before the night was over, Wes, the Jefferson Parish narc, was selling the customers back their dope in the band room! This is how out there it was. "And then Charlie went out and walked the bar and did the dance of the Seven Veils. He's out and there doing a striptease walking the bar. It's one of them gigs that's printed in my brain. And we always had what we used to call our 'band-aids' back then. Before they called them groupies, we called them band-Aids." When Stone fell for one of the young ladies a little too hard, friction arose. "I told Roland, 'Hey, listen, you can't marry this girl. She's our girl. She belongs to the band.' I thought I was doing him a favor but it backfired. He was obviously pissed." Stone showed up for his next recording session with three henchmen in tow including prizefighter Pepi Flores. "They stomped my ass. Charlie went out and got a gun and was firing in the air. I says, 'Charlie, quit shooting in the air! Shoot these motherfuckers!' He didn't even have real guns. They were replica weapons he'd loaded up! But we all went to work the next night together. Me and Charlie wound up having to wear shades and makeup to hide the black eyes. That's when I learned, hey, when it comes to matters of somebody's heart, stay the fuck out of it." The good times had to come to an end and they eventually did. Stone was busted on a narcotics charge, as was Maduell, who remains in Angola today. Within just a few years, Paul Staehle would die of a drug over dose. Rebennack's own luck ran out on Christmas Eve of 1961 when he intervened in a scuffle between Ronnie Barron and a jealous club owner who accused Barron of having an affair with his wife. "I walked in to get Ronnie at the last minute because Ronnie was like Leonard James, he'd take forever to get himself all perfect. So I go to get him and the guy's pistol-whipping him. Miss Mildred, Ronnie's mama, said if anything happened to her son on the road she was going to take a butcher knife and chop my cajones off. So I'm thinking, 'Man, if anything happens to this guy, his mama's going to fuck me up.' And hey, she was much more frightening to me than this guy was. I thought I had my hand over the handle of the gun, but it was over the barrel. I'm beating his hand on the bricks and as I'm hitting it, all of a sudden the gun went off and my finger's just about to fall off of my hand. It was hanging by a piece of skin and then I went crazy. I took Paul Staehle's ride cymbal out the case and just fucked up the guy's face. I was trying to pull his eyeballs out his head." Doctors managed to reattach the finger, but Rebennack had trouble playing guitar with the intensity he'd become known for. He concentrated on the keyboard, playing organ on virtually all of Huey Meaux's New Orleans sessions, most notably those of Barbara Lynn and Jimmy Donley. The first--and perhaps wildest--chapter of his musical career officially came to a close when he was busted and sent to federal prison in Fort Worth, Texas. Upon his release in 1965 he headed to California and his future as the Night Tripper. "You know what the kicks of it was?" Rebennack asks. "We wanted to play music so bad that we didn't ever think about it. We were trying to make a hustle just off of the gigs and that was part of the fun of it. Everything we done, we had fun doing it. That was the one thing that I always treasured about them days. It was just something that happened. When you're young and crazy and stupid, you do a lot of crazy, stupid shit. But a lot of that shit is great because you're too stupid to know better. I know that we made it a point to always have kicks, to always have good times no matter what was going to go down. We never thought, 'Oh, this is a suck-ass gig we're going on.' We went on all kinds of suck-ass gigs! But while we were doing them, we had a ball."

#drjohn #neworleans

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fayestardust · 6 years

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Disclaimer: This is the prologue or first chapter of a Harry Styles fic that I never continued beyond this point even though I’ve got most of the story mapped out in my mind. I might still, at some point, if you lot want me to. Let me know if you find it interesting or want to read more. Second disclaimer: Pure fiction. K, thanks.

Avery still remembered how she felt when she was six years old. When she was on tour, with her sister Ella, her dad and her mom. She remembered the anticipation. Maybe some people thought it wasn’t natural for her and her sister to be there. But her mom had a show to put on, and her dad didn’t dream of letting her go without him. The only thing that made any sense was for them all to go together.

Ella and Avery were raised on music. They played guitar, piano and violin when they weren’t singing. They grew up on the stage. Oh how much Avery loved being up on that stage. She soaked up the lights and the applause. For a long time, she couldn’t imagine her life to be anything other than that. Even when Ella started to lose interest, Avery couldn’t go longer than an hour without her music, or longer than a week without the thrill of the stage. By the time she was fourteen, she was writing her own songs and set to open on her mother’s tour. It was all planned out and she was ready. She was set for sold out shows and a bright lights future. It was all in the cards for her. Until it wasn’t.

It wasn't often that Harry Styles visited a club that wasn't considered to be exclusive, for obvious reasons. It wasn't easy, after all, going anywhere without attracting unwanted attention within seconds of his arrival. But this one in London was an exception. It was a well-known haunt for musicians and ‘regular’ people alike, but some unspoken rule made it so that even the rich and famous could come here and enjoy their drinks and company without being bothered. So he had gladly accepted the invitation from Jeff, some songwriter friends and their friends to go out for a drink. It was, apart from a guaranteed good time, a smart move. The best connections were made, so he had learned, over a pleasant conversation and a drink or two, rather than from the other side of a conference table at the labels’ headquarters.

This was more of a social call than a business meeting though, narrated by bad jokes, with live music from the stage on the other end of the room. Harry had never played bars like this; had gone straight to concert halls and arenas with One Direction, and even though he’d tried to take a smaller approach to his first solo tour, it wasn’t as small as this. The people who played here were unknowns, fighting for their right to be heard in an open mic setting. Most of them, Harry thought bleakly, would never make it, their songs forgotten as soon as they were finished. Still, he watched with interest when he wasn’t engaged in conversation, knowing full well that he had been lucky and that this could have been him, too, working a job and playing music on the side because it was hard to make a living.

“A girl I know is playing here tonight,” offered Mark, a friend of a friend and a producer who had worked mostly on small projects for little known independent artists. “I worked on her EP a few months back. Wasn’t picked up. Shame, really. Girl’s got a great voice and a good story to tell.” He shook his head in disappointment, “Suppose she wasn't cut out for it, though. Too nice.”

There's no such thing as too nice, Harry thought, but the hum of agreement from the other men, even Jeff, stopped him from speaking up. It was more of an assessment of the industry than a comment on the girl’s personality.

Backstage, Avery Dawson sat on a beat down sofa, tuning her guitar restlessly. She was nervous, and there was no place to really calm and collect herself. The backstage was little more than a corridor and a couple of restrooms that she had to share with the musicians that had already been on stage and those that would come after her. She had fixed her hair and put on some mascara and lip balm in the restroom and had looked at her herself in the fogged up mirror.

“Excuse me,” a girl who’d just come out of the stall and washed her hand had interrupted, “Have we met? You look really familiar.”

Avery glanced at the girl in the mirror. “I don't think so. I just have one of those faces.”

“Oh, ok. Are you playing? Because if so, good luck.”

Avery looked a great deal like her mother, and if they had had the same last name, it would have made sense to people instantly. They had the same blue eyes, the same wavy curls that lightened in summer. Avery’s smile was almost identical to her mother’s. She would have encouraged all of this. Maybe that was why Avery was here, now, singing her songs despite the fact that it terrified her and she thought about quitting before every show.

“Avery?” Tommy, the announcer popped his head around the corner, checking his clipboard and smiling.

Avery’s head bobbed up from her guitar.

“You’re up next, sweetheart. I’ll announce you and you can come up when I call your name.”

Not your sweetheart, Avery thought, but she nodded and stood, making sure her guitar strap was fastened and smoothing down her oversized shirt, doing up another button and then immediately unbuttoning it again. This wasn’t a church. She followed the announcer to the edge of the stage, watching as he went up and the boy that just performed, disappeared past her into the safe darkness of the backstage area. She looked after him, considering following him until Tommy repeated her name from where he was standing on the stage.

“Avery? Come on up.”

Harry watched, intrigued by the showrunner's introduction of Mark’s too nice EP girl.

“She’s quite nervous,” he’d said, “She looks like she might rather be anywhere but here. Like she does every week. But she’s here so you might wanna give her some encouragement.”

The request was largely ignored by tonight’s audience, though everyone at Harry’s table clapped, with a loud whistle and cheer from Mark, as the girl took to the stage. Harry found himself wondering if - and why - she was here every week.

The unwavering loud chatter from the bar’s patrons was comforting to Avery as she took her seat in the spotlight. She wasn’t one to command her audience’s silence by her presence, even though hushing might have been the respectful thing to do.

“Hi, my name’s Avery. I’m going to sing a few songs if that’s alright with you,” she said quietly, moving her lips to the microphone and as she briefly turned the knobs on the stand to adjust the height. More a nervous habit than a necessity. She swallowed in a brief attempt to calm the flutter of butterfly wings against her ribs, breathing the ...2 ...3 ...4 and shifting the guitar on her knee. She touched its strings briefly, an intimate greeting before she began playing, accompanying the rhythm with a vocal melody.

The crowd never did hush, but it didn’t matter, she was content to sing her songs in the background of everyone else’s conversations. Attempts to talk to the audience fell on deaf man’s ears tonight. But not everyone’s.

Harry had heard every single word she’d sung and said, every single note that she had played. He had tuned out of his friends’ quiet conversation entirely. He knew passion for music when he saw it, could feel it resonate in his own bones, and she definitely had it. That and a lot more. Talent and charm, despite her reserve.

Tonight’s schedule gave every artist time for three songs, and Avery's last song was an uptempo tune; a final attempt to get people involved, but they remained distracted. When she finished, her quiet thank you almost dissolved into the murmur. Mark whooped, trying to get her some actual applause, shaking his head when there wasn’t much more than a hesitant clap from the far corner. Avery ducked her head, bid the audience good night and disappeared from the stage.

“People are deaf and blind,” Mark complained, still shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, man,” Jeff offered sympathetically.

Backstage, Avery ducked out of her guitar strap, setting it down beside her as she rested her head back against the wall and waited for nausea to subside.

“Tough crowd,” Tommy commented.

“Yeah,” she replied, glancing over at him.

“I don’t know why you go up there if you’re so scared.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Aye. See you next week, I assume?”

“Yep.”

As Tommy moved on to present the next performer, Avery pushed herself away from the wall and walked back to the dressing rooms to collect her belongings. She retrieved her guitar case and put it down on the floor, popping open the lid marked A.D. in golden script. After her guitar was packed away safely, she opened her locker and took out her things. She clicked her phone screen on to check for messages. There were a few: one from her roommate wishing her good luck and a couple from Mark: one before her performance and some after.

21:03 Mark:

Good luck! I’ve brought you a small entourage, we’re rooting for you.

21:30 Mark:

That was awesome! You smashed it! Sorry the crowd wouldn’t shut up.

21:32 Mark:

Come join us for a drink? I think you should meet these people. They loved it. They’re good people. And also in the music biz. Would be smart.

21:33 Mark:

Please? Ave?

Avery’s finger hovered over the screen as she contemplated a reply.

21:36 Avery:

I’m really tired. Gonna call it a night. But thank you for coming. I really do appreciate it.

21:37 Mark:

Aw. Please? :(

Wanting to avoid further discussion, Avery quickly switched off her phone screen and put the device in her purse. One day, she’d have to start being a person again, but today didn’t feel like the day. She pulled on her coat, picked up her guitar and headed out the stage door.

Harry picked up on the disappointment from Mark as he dropped his phone face down on the table. Neither of them were paying attention to the conversation that the group veered into about a new local studio.

“You alright?” Harry asked, shifting a little to turn his attention to Mark.

Mark looked up, a little distracted, but nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. It’s just. Avery.” he shrugged.

“I thought she was really good.”

“Yeah, no, it’s not that. She just... switches off. I was hoping she’d join us for a bit,” he scrubbed a hand over his already shaggy hair, “I know it’s not my job and she’s not family or whatever, but I care.”

Harry smiled. “I’m sure she appreciates it. Pity, though, I’d have liked to tell her she was great up there. I felt it.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her.” Mark replied, taking a swig of his beer, then swallowed it suddenly, holding up a finger, “Actually, hold on.” Reaching down, he pulled his bag onto his lap and rummaged through it, pulling out a stack of cds. Flipping through them one by one, he looked for Avery’s EP. Finding one, he held it out to Harry. “Here. If you like. Only one of the songs she performed is on it, but they’re all spectacular.”

“Thanks! I’ll give it a listen,” he flipped the cardboard sleeve over in his hands, checking out the cover - not much to it, just a peachy pink colour with her name on it in white letters - and then the tracklist at the back. There were just four songs on it, but he was eager to hear them. “W’d’you reckon? Car EP?”

“I’d recommend a comfortable room, lights out, eyes closed. But anywhere, really.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but Mark seemed utterly serious and it made him wonder. “That sounds rather intimate...”

“They’re intimate songs. She recorded them in the dark. She came into the studio a couple of times, but it just wasn’t happening. I really thought we were going to quit the entire thing and I think she did too. But then she just emailed me these vocal and guitar tracks out of nowhere. Said she’d recorded them in her room with the lights off and asking me to please turn them into an EP.” Mark let out a soft laugh, “Don’t think I’d ever been so confused. And I half expected them to be bad somehow because nothing was happening at the studio at all, but they were pure magic, mate. You don’t even know.”

Harry listened to Mark’s animated retelling of his experience with this girl, and he was a little intrigued. Glancing down at the cd, he read the song titles with this new perspective in mind.

He instantly wondered if the second song was in reference to the recording process or something else. Looking up at Mark again, he wiggled the cd in his hand. “I’ll listen,” he said, putting the cd away in the pocket of one of the larger journals in his bag before nudging it under the table with his boot.

“Haz,” Jeff looped him into the group conversation again suddenly, “Maybe we should stop by the new studio next week, maybe that’ll spark something.”

Harry hadn’t really heard much of what they had been discussing, but he nodded, “Sure.”

His second album had been a moderate success, not entirely what everyone had hoped for, so the pressure was on for number three. It was agreed upon that they needed something different to get Harry higher up into the charts. While he still had most of the creative freedom he was promised, he could feel the big bosses breathing down his neck, wanting him to deliver commercial success. He’d never had the illusion that it could be all about the music and just the music forever. He wanted his music to be heard by as many people as possible. Finding the middle ground, however, wasn’t easy.

It was probably the reason they were here tonight, even though Jeff had disguised the evening as a ‘not business’ event. In truth, the last couple of weeks, he had introduced Harry to as many industry people as possible, from producers to studio owners, to songwriters, to composers, in hopes that one of them might stick and inspire his young client. It was tough sometimes, being friends at the same time. Because pressure was on him too. So far, though Harry had gone along with everything, none of it was very fruitful. “Sure,” he repeated.

Avery shared a second-floor apartment in Camden Town with a girl named Alyssa. It wasn’t big, but it came at a decent price given the location. Alyssa paid most of the rent and didn’t mind. She had lived there by herself before Avery moved in and could afford to take on the lion’s share. Her job, working for a publishing agency on Carnaby Street, paid well enough to allow her childhood friend to sort herself out without having to worry about money. While Avery had a job as a waitress at the pub on the nights she wasn’t playing, London was especially expensive if you compared it to their hometown and her paycheck didn’t cover her half of the rent completely. She promised Alyssa she’d pay back what she owed, but ever the supportive best friend, Alyssa had said there was no need. They eventually agreed to disagree.

“How’d it go?” Alyssa asked when Avery came home and let herself in.

“Shit,” Avery hissed. Her guitar case banged against the wall as she tried to get it inside. It wasn’t the first time; some plaster had crumbled off and a number of dents had been left on the wall. Avery mentally apologised to the neighbours, who despite her late night guitar sessions, never complained. Perhaps because their other neighbours had a tendency to be much louder.

“That bad, huh?”

“Huh, what? No. I mean. I just said shit because of my g- Oh, never mind.” Abandoning her guitar case and purse on the floor, she made her way over to the couch and peeled her coat off. “It wasn’t bad.”

Alyssa barely looked away from the Netflix show she was watching on her laptop. This was almost a routine by now, and the answers were predictable. Back in the day, when Avery had just moved in, Alyssa would often come with her to shows, but not anymore. Not for lack of support, but on Avery’s insistence. “They shut up this time?”

Avery draped her coat over the back of the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. “No.”

“Clap?”

“A bit. I think Mark brought friends.” Avery grabbed a mug and a tea bag and poured herself a cuppa from the kettle, still hot.

The mention of Mark and friends made Alyssa look up. “Who’s Mark? Do I know Mark?”

Returning to the living room, Avery slipped her shoes off and settled in an armchair across from the couch, wiggling her toes to get the feeling back into them. Performing made her so tense she couldn‘t feel her feet. “Producer Mark. The one who did my EP.”

“Ah, and he brought friends,” Alyssa was seemingly quite pleased.

“Apparently they loved it.”

Alyssa’s smile widened but then faded as she considered what Avery had said. “What do you mean, ‘apparently’? You heard it from them, right? You met them?”

“Not... exactly,” Avery said evasively, wrapping her fingers around her mug and blew on it so she didn’t have to look her friend in the eye.

“Tell me you stayed. Avery. Come on.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Alyssa threw up her hands in exasperation. “Why didn’t you stay?! I try to get you out of this bloody flat, but you never listen! And fine, I get that, but I’d have expected that in ‘your scene’, you’d at least make an effort!”

It wasn’t that Avery didn’t understand that she needed to make an effort. She just didn’t know how to handle the embarrassment. “I didn’t feel like it!” Avery said, shields up, “What am I supposed to say to them anyway? They’re industry people, and they just watched me fail as a performer.”

“You just told me they loved it!? Which one is it?”

“That’s just what Mark said. Probably felt sorry for me.” Avery quipped.

“Didn’t you move out here to actually get your life back?” Alyssa asked, accusatory.

Avery flinched. Being confronted like that hurt a little, but only because it was true. She had moved from their hometown of Wilmslow, Cheshire, a year ago for that exact reason. She hadn’t gone back home except for Christmas. It was too tough to stay there, but it hadn’t exactly been easy to start over in London, either.

When Avery gave no reply, Alyssa snapped her laptop shut and got up from the couch. “You’re impossible. I’m going to bed. You can have a pity party all by yourself.”

“Fine.” Avery huffed, taking a gulp of the scalding hot tea and hissing when it burned the roof of her mouth. She probably deserved that.

Alyssa gave her a look, slowing her walk towards her room as if she was waiting for Avery to change her mind. When she didn’t, she sighed. “Night, Ave.”

“Yeah,” Avery murmured back, “Night.”

Once Alyssa was gone, the living room felt quiet and drinking tea alone turned into the loneliest feeling on the planet. It was during moments like these that Avery wondered if she should go back to the counsellor she stopped seeing a year ago. But even he had said that he couldn’t help her unless she admitted that she needed help and wanted to be helped. Most of the time, she didn’t. She was fine most of the time. Really.

Avery got up from the armchair and went to turn off the lights in the living room and kitchen, making sure to turn down the heating before heading to her room, leaving her half-empty mug on the coffee table. Being in her room in the dark, swallowed up by her duvet and pillows, felt comfortable. She liked watching the shreds of light from the busy Camden street below as they crept through the blinds and danced across her bedroom wall. Their repetitive motion carried her halfway to sleep and calmed her mind. Tomorrow would be a new day and it would be better. It always was. One of those tomorrows would be the day she found her spark again. No matter how many times she failed, no matter terrified she felt to be up on that stage, there would be a day when she would no longer feel like that and she’d go back to being the person people knew her to be. With that flicker of hope as a ghost in the back of her mind, Avery fell asleep.

At the end of the week, after a long, unsuccessful day of writing, Harry let himself into his London home. It was dark, quiet and uninviting, which had nothing to do with the house itself but with Harry’s mood: he was frustrated. His writing session had run later than planned because they had all wanted this day to finally give them some results, but what he had written today was definitely not going on his album. It wasn’t bad, per say, it just wasn’t him. He was hungry but too tired to do anything about it; he really wanted to go to bed. Maybe he could write something from the comfort of his own bedroom. It had worked for him before.

He dragged himself upstairs, dropping his bag onto his bed as he flicked on the light on the bedside table. After he had taken off his jeans and sweater, undressing further felt like too much effort. He pulled back the covers and sat down on the mattress, propping the pillows up so he could sit comfortably back against the headboard. One leg still hanging off the side, Harry upended his bag onto the duvet.

Keys, phone, half-eaten sandwich - he’d finish the rest of that later - recorder, lip balm, tissues, journal, notes, not the ones he was looking for, his other journal. He flicked through the first journal in search of today’s words but couldn’t find them. He was pretty sure he’d stuck the napkins he’d been writing on during lunch in there somewhere. There was exactly one line on a pink one he was keen to get back to. A little annoyed, he gave the second journal a little shake. A packet of things fell out, some change, someone’s business card, the napkins, “Yes!” And, Harry paused, moving them out of the way, Avery’s EP. He had forgotten all about it. Laying it aside, he rummaged around until he found the line he was looking for. He opened his journal and copied the lyric onto the lined sheet, but then glanced at the cd. He had promised Mark he would listen.

Afraid he would forget again, he got up and put it on over the stereo, pausing it right away, because he remembered Mark’s instructions. He might have been joking, but it didn’t stop Harry from turning off his light. Once he settled on his bed again, he pressed play on his phone and closed his eyes.

Whatever he thought the experience was going to be like, it wasn’t this. The darkness made it feel like she was right there in the room. When he had heard her perform almost a week ago, he had noted that she had a good voice. Now, without the chatter of the pub’s patrons or the feedback from the microphone, it sounded fragile in the best way possible. Not weak, but honest and full of emotion. He frowned, because the lyrics were regretful and sad, something that didn’t correspond with the smile he had seen from her on stage.

13 minutes and 25 seconds later, he played it again, from the beginning. That’s when it hit him, with a slight tingle down his spine: Inspiration.

#harry styles fic

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theepitomeofsimplicite · 6 years

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Dear New York City,

You are incredible! I love your busy streets and young energetic crowd. You are simply vibrant of life just how I had imagined you (from the movies, Sex & the City shows, and the songs about you)! So many reasons to have a crush on you so where shall I start?

Butcher’s Daughter

Driving through Chinatown

Ok, here are some of my first impressions of you, NYC:

It is said of you that you are the entire world into one city. Could it be real? You have a platter full of food options! As you are being the hub of internationals and a known place for storied history, you satisfy anyone’s taste bud, I can’t make up my mind. How can I decide between a casual French bistro (Bagatelle, 1 Little West 12th St.), delicious house-made Italian pasta (La Sirena, 88 9th Ave.), Exotic Moroccan (Cafe Mogador, 101 Saint Marks Pl #1), spicy Korean (Kori Tribeca, 253 Church St.), fun cocktails and Mexican food (La Palapa, 77 St Marks Pl.), Barcelona-style tapas (Toro, 85 10th Ave.), German’s pretzels and beer (The Standard Biergarten, 848 Washington St. just outside of the Standard High Line Hotel and I’ll tell more later), Green Juice (Yep that’s also food trust me!) and far more as if I was in the mood for a health conscious Californian style (not just green juice) there is Dime (49 Canal St.). And let’s not omit American sandwiches (Tiny’s & the Bar Upstairs, 135 W Broadway), and comfort food made of shakes, fries and burgers (Bill’s Bar & Burgers, 16 W 51st St.). There is also the Michelin starred Chef Gunter Seeger at Gunter Seerger NY (641 Hudson St.) and for the gluten free folks there is Friedman’s Lunch (75 9th Ave. at the Chelsea Market which I’ll speak more about in this post). Alas, due to my devoted ramen international tour mission, my friend and I set our minds towards Ippudo Ramen (65 Fourth Ave.) as soon as we set our feet on you.

Ippudo NYC

Ippudo Tonkotsu Ramen

Shook off the night away at Le Bain (848 Washington St.), the penthouse club and roof top bar with an outstanding sweeping city and river view located at the Standard High Line hotel. You blew us away! The vibe was electric between the sparkly giant disco ball, the Afro kinetics music, the sweaty dance moves, with the sticky cranberry vodka on my hand. I’ll remember this moment for a while 🙂 Not to mention our pre-game with gin-based drinks at this speakeasy bar Bathtub Gin that is disguised with a front panel as a regular coffee shop. How dare you tricked us!! Fortunately a friendly local had mercy and pointed the place out to us. Piouf don’t you know I have the fear of missing out syndromes!!

Le Bain with a sweeping view of the river and the city

Some cool walls at the Standard High Line

Bathtub Gin is behind the facade of this coffee shop

The Maritime Hotel (363 W 16th St.) is one of your best places to spend the night in my opinion; friendly, quirky (how I personally like it) and cozy. Located right in the center of the Meatpacking District. This 24-hour neighborhood is found on the far west side of Manhattan and is bordered by Chelsea to the north and the West Village towards downtown. It’s a formidable plant for fashion and graphic designers, architects, artists, restaurateurs, stylists and even corporate headquarters. I enjoyed staying at this hotel in that unique style, it has a nautical-themed landmark with the signature view porthole windows and how I love the white and blue tiles at the restaurant bar and the outdoor terraces seemed just perfect for spring time. In the morning a modest continental breakfast was served at the hotel restaurant so I grabbed myself a quick bite of the bagel with some flavorful orange spread, a mini pain au chocolat, a hard boiled egg, a cup of black coffee and a fresh squeeze glass of OJ. I love the serene atmosphere there with plenty of sun rays through the large windows illuminating the brass surfaced pending lamps.

The Maritime Hotel Restaurant

Ice Wine from Montreal

My Instragram (non worthy) messy bed at the Maritime Hotel

The view port over Manhattan from the Maritime Hotel

Map printed furniture at the Maritime Hotel

Petit dej at the Maritime Hotel Restaurant

You are so walkable in lower Manhattan and it was a great way to see your beauty (your wall graffitis, your modern architectures, your red bricked walls, your apartment stair cases, your lively people, and your multi-culture). But if I didn’t care for strolling around in the cold, then there was the world known yellow cab which was very affordable too! Besides the hotel’s cool white-tiled exterior, I can find within a short walking distance anything ranging from roof top night clubs around the corner, espresso bars, bakeries, as well as street food stands (one in the front of the hotel), yummy late night pizzas (Brunetti Pizza, 626 Hudson St.) (especially required after too much drinks at 4 am), and have I already mentioned great restaurants and bars?!

Cool wall art

Greenwich Village street crossing

The signature NYC staircases

And more wall graffitis

Chelsea Market and the well known yellow cab

The Chelsea Market (75 9th Ave.) to me is where anything can happen and is only a block away from the hotel. You are spontaneous like that! If I ever get too lazy to walk out there into town and/or there is a snow storm alert coming, this covered venue is very special! One is expected to find anything ranging from espresso bar, pastries and freshly baked bread. A crave for fresh oysters there is The Lobster Place!! There, it’s a retail fish market with omakase sushi bar but also a raw bar where people can order and eat at the counter nearby the living seashells. There is even a German wurst place!! There are plenty of cool shops for gifts giving. I love this market!

Chelsea Market

Seafood Bar

Oyster Platter

The Lobster Place

Sight seeing to me is so boring but we strolled around town and set our sight towards The Flatiron Building then marched towards the Empire State Building. I got remotely distracted by the Museum of Sex and ought to call out Grant on this! Our last Vegas trip during thanksgiving holiday failed on us in finding adult shows for some sort of sex Ed haha I’ll skip the details there 😉 but anyone can read this post here! The Empire State Building was incredibly crowded (uncool!!) so we evidently ditched the queue and headed out towards the world known Times Square. Bright lights, giant billboards and honking everywhere! It was to say the least chaotic. Gotta get away now! Who really hangs out in Times Square aside from catching a Broadway show or… yeah tourists!!

The Flatiron Building

The Empire State Building

The chaotic Times Square

The Museum of Sex, was it really a distraction?! or an attraction? Can you tell me 😉

If anyone needed a breath of fresh air when the concrete walk way and the stinging sound of sirens and honking felt suffocating and exhausting, there is fun and relaxation in strolling in your parks. Aside from the obvious green area of Central Park, I loved the Brooklyn Bridge Park where my friend and I got to have a humble picnic; with the magical view over Manhattan in the dark contrast of what you do best which is to gleam lights and inspire us with your beauty. We hopped on a yellow cab and asked to go to Pier 11. I had the idea of getting on a ferry to have a good gaze at the scintillant Brooklyn Bridge by the night. My friend and I cheered with red wine in plastic cups (lack of sophistication here, not me!) set ourselves up on a butt- frozen stairwell of the Brooklyn Bridge Park. We had some crackers dipped in olive paste and some (unidentifiable) cheese. Despite the blazing cold where my fingers and toes stopped responding to my commands, I very much enjoyed taking you in for a brief and calm sudden moment.

View of the Brooklyn Bridge on the Jumbo Ferry

Sweeping view of lower Manhattan from the Brooklyn Bridge Park

A view of the Brooklyn Bridge from the Pier 11

After filling our stomach at Mr. Tuka Ramen (170 Allen St.), we needed to walk it off a bit right so we headed towards world renown Comedy Cellar to test your sense of humor. Are you that funny? Unfortunately you are ever so crowded so we again ditched the queue and got some late drinks at the hotel. I served my friend some of the ice wine I got from my trip to Montreal the weekend before. It was so sweet but so tasty.

Mr. Tuka Ramen

Tonkotsu Ramen

More sight seeing followed on our last day photographing the one World Trade Center and the memorial site, stopped by Wall Street to find the Charging Bull and the Fearless Girl. Finally walked towards the Battery Park to have a peak at the Statue of Liberty from a far distance. But on our way to Sunday Brunch, not Egg Shop,151 Elizabeth St.), not the Butcher’s Daughter (19 Kenmare St.) (the queue estimated to be 1 hour waiting time so no thanks!!) got a green juice (must have Matcha Fizz made of matcha, fresh lime, honey and rosemary ) at the Cafe Integral (149 Elizabeth St.) and amazing classic Persian food instead (Ravagh Persian Grill, 125 1st Ave.). On our way there, I got to see life through Greenwich village. Kids playing at the playground and youngsters shooting hoops. And other people brunching too. The Persian grill was phenomenal! I’d recommend to anyone! And finally time was up!

Greenwich Village strolling

Life in Greenwich Village

The Egg Shop for Brunch

Awkward me as a tourist

A ride towards the World Trade Center

Cafe Integral Matcha Fitz Juice

Classic Persian Food

Until next time darling, we’ll have another date! I promise 😉

New York City Dear New York City, You are incredible! I love your busy streets and young energetic crowd. You are simply vibrant of life just how I had imagined you (from the movies, Sex & the City shows, and the songs about you)!

#City Guide #Life #Lifestyle Blog #Lower Manhattan #Manhattan #New York #New York City #NYC #NYC City Guide #Travel

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bigyack-com · 4 years

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In and around Szentendre: An oasis of serenity - travel

For a couple of years, as a student, I called the Hungarian capital of Budapest home. Exotic, unfamiliar, Eastern European — a city that boasted of a range of architectural styles from distinct time periods. An exciting artistic and musical scene, the iconic Széchenyi Chain Bridge twinkling in the night time, summoning you to cross from hilly, tranquil Buda to young, pulsating Pest; ruin pubs with their eclectic decor and mismatched furniture that echo with the raucous song of many a tourist; gentrified districts with hip cafés and brunch places that serve artisanal food; and the continent’s beloved Danube — Duna to the locals — calm, winding, snaking its way under the city’s many, many bridges. For months, I was intoxicated, spellbound by its seemingly magical ability to feel so welcoming and familiar, despite the grandeur of its buildings and a tongue that none of my foreign language training had prepared me for. It took the rigour of academia and the monotony of routine for me to stop finding romance in the creaking of the hardwood floors of my 19th century apartment, in the drunken revelry of those who congregated at the pub beneath my window, or in the smell of freshly baked bread from the neighbourhood pekség (bakery). No longer did a sighting of the majestic neo-Gothic style parliament building make my day. The spell had broken and Budapest’s famous thermal baths, impossibly relaxing as they were, didn’t seem quite enough. Craving a break, the humble town of Szentendre was beckoning.

Lutheran Church in SzenendreEscaping the city’s escapadesA mere 40 minutes away by the suburban railway with its green carriages, starting from one end of the yellow Margaret bridge that affords breathtaking views of Pest, Buda and the gentle blue-grey waters between them, is the small town of Szentendre, making for a perfect day trip from the bustling capital. For the athletically inclined, a tree-lined bike path leads one from Buda to Szentendre, replete with riverfront views and snack stations for quick bites. The popular tourist destination lies on the west bank of the picturesque Danube Bend, the region where the river turns sharply between the hills on either bank and is home to several charming towns that teem with visitors.Szentendre’s building facades — in pastel shades of blue, pink, yellow and green — with white window ledges that house flowerpots bursting in bloom, labyrinthine cobbled streets lined with souvenir shops and cafes, and many churches, museums and galleries make it a postcard European town. It has mixed ethnic influences and a somewhat Mediterranean vibe that are a result of, as travel books say, its cultural mix of Greek, Dalmatian and Serb immigrants, as well as that of German and Slovak populations. While the Serbian Orthodox Church and the Baroque-Rococo Greek Orthodox Blagovestenska church, both important points on a tourist’s agenda, are the most obvious testament to the region’s cultural diversity, Szentendre has seamlessly integrated its influences into not just its art and architecture, but also its food.Once one enters Szentendre, either from the station or from where the ferry docks on the bank, one is likely to first visit Fo Tér, the spacious main square that is almost always decked with twinkling lights, decorative umbrellas or rows of hanging patterned lampshades that form a colourful canopy over the historical town’s winding alleys. Small cafés with cozy outdoor seating amidst trees briskly changing colour, and large restaurants with garden seating, rustic wooden tables and distinctive art work on their walls offer soft, crumbly ricotta cheesecake, and warm, sour cream-topped deep-fried langos (a Hungarian delicacy). Whatever the season is, a trip to Szentendre is usually incomplete without a pit stop at Levendula, an ice cream shop dutifully painted in shades of lavender and sporting in its window a violently purple bicycle that admittedly conjures up images of carefree rides through unspoiled meadows. Its ice cream is less predictable than its decor, however, with flavour combinations such as lavender-lemon, strawberry-balsamic vinegar and even Camembert. A trip to the Marzipan Museum, which fancies itself to be a Tussauds of sorts with its sometimes odd recreations of celebrities and buildings in marzipan, may perhaps best be avoided by those to whom the idea of sugary almond paste is not particularly appealing. Instead, a visit to the National Wine Museum that educates the visitor on the region’s many vineyards and the development of Hungarian wine, may be more appealing.Bustling street lifeSzentendre’s streets are lined with quaint little shops with brass name boards, carved wooden doors, and ivy-covered windows that sell everything from kitschy souvenirs, bunches and bunches of fiery-looking Hungarian paprika, and memorabilia inspired by folk art to fine clothing, delicate glass jewellery, Chinese porcelain, handcrafted artefacts, paintings and sculpture.

Michael Jackson’s statue at the Marzipan MuseumSzentendre, in fact, is known as a hub of Hungarian artists, authors, musicians and sculptors; its Artist Colony, founded in 1928, brought together several important creative people, and the artistic tradition of the region continues to flourish today with several generations of artists calling Szentendre their home. A number of museums pay homage to this tradition: the Margit Kovács Ceramic Museum houses Hungary’s leading ceramicist’s work; Barcsay Museum celebrates the many works of local artist Jeno Barcsay, and the Art Mill holds exhibitions of painting, photography, sculpture, and other modern innovative art.For most people, a day at Szentendre typically ends with a lazy stroll by the river or a sprint up to Templom Tér, which offers a view of interlocking, overlapping red roofs at various heights, the wide plazas, and the cobbled streets of the city below.So postcard-perfect Szentendre, that people often remark it is lost in time, a place almost removed from reality, and the perfect escape, therefore, from the caprices of everyday life.B014RGVIG2, 1786575426Follow more stories on Facebook and TwitterAt Hindustan Times, we help you stay up-to-date with latest trends and products. Hindustan Times has affiliate partnership, so we may get a part of the revenue when you make a purchase. Source link Read the full article

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bulletjourneyy · 5 years

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Paris: The City of Lights

“We’ve exited the Palace of Versailles, we cannot go back in for macarons from Ladurée, Aanya :(”

“Arre, what’s the big deal, I’ll go get them, don’t worry”

“But there’s a really long queue to enter again, even with our passes.”

“Watch me!”

I managed to wiggle through by convincing a member of security at one of the restaurants in Versailles and we got our macarons. There were a lot of failed attempts before that though– my okay French got me decently far; I also picked up some stray members of our group on the way!

Trip length: 10 days

General Tips:

· Be polite: Though the stereotypical Parisians are said to be rude, they are often very polite – so don’t forget your thank you (merci), please (s’il vous plâit), excuse me (pardon/ excusez-moi s’il vous plâit)

· Watch out for scams and pickpockets: This might seem obvious, but it is a good idea to look up and beware of the scams and where they are most prevalent. As for pickpockets, make sure never to leave your items unattended, avoid putting valuables in your back pockets, make sure the zipper of your tote bag is in front, and if you have something particularly valuable that is large, maybe cover it with a scarf inside the bag.

· Dress smart casual: Everyone in Paris is well-dressed. You might feel very touristy and out-of-place in jeans and a tee-shirt, so dress up a bit, but still make sure to be comfortable because you will walk around quite a bit!

· Don’t take taxis, take the trains/metros instead: Paris and its suburbs are so well networked, and traveling by public transport is much cheaper than taking the taxis, and it gives you a true feel of Paris! Beware of pickpockets though!

· Be centrally located: Walking around Paris is the best way to experience it

· Try an apartment instead of a hotel for potential better rates (AirBnB)

· Carry your own water bottles to avoid paying for expensive water – there are often water fountains, especially near public washrooms

Top 10 Places to Click Instagram Worthy Shots

1. Trocadéro: Best photos against the Eiffel Tower

2. In front of Sacré-Cœur (against the panorama)

3. The Louvre: Click inside the Pyramid

4. Arc de Triomphe

5. Ladurée (or any macaron shop)

6. The bridges on the Seine (especially Pont Alexandre III)

7. Les Quais Along the river Seine

8. Latin Quarter

9. Notre Dame

10. Inside a narrow street

Honestly, everything in Paris is Instagrammable

Paris

Places to Visit and Things to Do:

As clichéd as these suggestions might seem, do read them, as you will see certain tips and tricks that will make your trip!

· The Eiffel Tower: Go up, right to the top, and click lots of pictures. With the help of a map, try and identify all that you can see from the top. From the first floor, there’s also a zip line that you can take across.

· Arc De Triomphe: Located on Champs-Élysées, this is one famous monument. But what most people miss (including me) is going up top. It is said that you get one of the best views of Paris, and of course the Eiffel Tower, from there.

· Sacré-Cœur: This serendipitous church is an absolute stunner, inside out. Its walls echo the sounds of silence despite the sheer number of people inside, lending peace to the ambiance, while the external façade is an architectural marvel. And as soon as you turn your back to the church, you face a beautiful panorama of Paris – do not miss this! The sunset here is really very beautiful!

· Montmartre: The little locality at the base of Sacré-Cœur, one must spend some time here – there are quaint shops, street artists and caricaturists, and cute cafés.

· Notre Dame: The hype about the stainless glass windows? Yeah, it’s not a hype. An art lover's dream come true – the sheer grandeur of the structure will bring you to your knees in awe (the insides are closed now for renovation due to the fire)

· Louvre (and its gardens): Everyone knows about the Mona Lisa, but what else is interesting in the Louvre? (Especially if you’re not really an art person and would like to be in an out in an hour or two, here’s a list of the stuff you should still see)

o Level -1: Chevaux de Marly (Massive horse sculptures)

o Level 0: Vénus de Milo

o Level 1: Apartments of Napoleon, French paintings, Mona Lisa, The Scribe, Greek sculptures

· Cruise along the Seine: It speaks for itself – you cannot miss this!

· Cycle through Paris: Best. Experience. Ever! It’s been 5+ years since I cycled in the night through Paris – one of the best ways to see the city, especially if you have a short timeframe

· Versailles: Honestly, though the palace is beautiful, for me, the gardens stole the show. They’re absolutely beautiful, and the perfect place for a picnic (and even a date!). There’s a little lake as well, where you can paddle-boat, which is a lot of fun! The gardens are quite expansive, so you may want to rent a golf cart, though I don’t recommend it.

· Champs-Élysées and Place de la Concorde: My first stop during my first trip to Paris, I recommend starting at Place de la Concorde and walking down Champs-Élysées toward Arc de Triomphe. Even if shopping at Champs-Élysées is out of your budget, it’s still worth a visit!

· Museé de l’orangerie: Monet’s water lilies. That was my favorite part of this museum. They also have some shifting exhibitions that are fairly fascinating.

· Panthéon and Sorbonne area (Latin Quarter): I’ve missed going here in both my short trips to Paris, but I’ve heard that it’s a truly wonderful area to immerse yourself in the culture

Places to Shop

Shops Local (or Local-ish) to Paris

· Galérie-Lafayettes

· Printemps

· Le Bon Marché

· Camiou

· Flying Tiger Copenhagen

· Fnac

Malls/Streets in Paris

· Souvenir shops near Notre Dame (bargain here!)

· Street vendors along the Seine (bargain here too!)

· Rue du Rivoli

· Rue du Commerce

· Boulevard St-Germain

· La Defense (this is a really huge mall)

The Standard Shops, Must-Go-In-Europe

· H&M

· Topshop

· ASOS (online only)

· Urban Outfitters

· Forever21

· Anthropologie

· Pimkie

For Cute Stationery (Most of these are at Rue de Rivoli and Rue de Commerce)

· Papier Tigre

· Merci

· Atelier Nota

· Lavrut

· Tout note

· Papier Plus

Places to Eat

· Berthillion: Gélato heaven

· Angelina: Hot chocolate dreams

· Ladurée: Macarons

· Streetside Crepes

· Local boulangeries and patisseries

· Le Pain Quotidien: This was sentimental for me as LPQ has shut down in most of Mumbai

Foods to Eat (Select personal favorites, otherwise this post would never end)

· Crêpes

· Éclairs

· Baguette

· Pain au chocolat

· Croissants

· Croque Monsieur

· Cheese (as many as you can try – it’s normal if you don’t like all of them)

· Hot chocolate

· Gélato

· Profiteroles

· Onion soup

· Éscargot (I never thought I’d eat this, and funny enough, I loved it!)

Maisons-Laffitte

Maisons-Laffitte is a quaint little neighborhood on the outskirts of Paris, about an hour away by train. It is perfect for a day trip with a picnic, relaxed vibe.

Places to Visit

· Château de Maisons-Laffitte: A baroque architectural beauty, this castle adds beauty and more character to the suburb. Its 1600s architecture creates a feeling of stepping back in time.

· Parks and gardens (any and all): Maisons-Laffitte is full of quintessential picnic spots, and you’ll often even find the stereotyped French person eating a bit of a plain baguette from the whole

· Hippodrome: Known as the horse-riding city, one must see the gorgeous stadium, and if you’re lucky enough to be there during the farmer’s/local market, shop to your heart’s desire!

Places to Shop

· Fellini: This boutique has shoes and clothes that are reasonably priced and extremely cute!

· Casino Supermarché: Though this might seem odd, this supermarket (this chain of supermarkets) has this an organic version of Nutella (no palm oil), called ‘noisette,’ and it’s absolutely delectable

Places to Eat

· La Pâtisserie de Longeueil: French Pastry. Need I say more? (Éclairs are my whole entire life<3)

· La Bonne Humeur: Crêpes, and more crêpes, and some more crêpes

· Le Ballon Voyageur: Semi-formal dining, but delicious European food

#paris #tourism #travelblog #travel #memories #ideas #bulletjourney

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keywestlou · 5 years

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THE SEASON IS OVER.....PEACE AND QUIET RETURN

The life blood of Key West is tourism. Key West’s sole industry.

Not consistent. Has its highs and lows. Busy as hell and then suddenly quiet for a period.

The longest busy time is known as the “season.” January 15 through Easter Sunday. Bodies, cars, bicycles, golf cart vehicles, baby carriages, etc. all over the place.

As quickly as the season arrives, it leaves. The Monday after Easter Sunday people depart Key West in droves. Tourists as well as snowbirds.

Today marks one week since Easter Sunday. The season group down 60-70 percent. More will leave this week.

The absence of tourists and snowbirds obvious. Everything slows down. As a water faucet to a slow drip.

A much needed rest begins. Memorial Day, July Fourth and Labor Day will see a resurgence. Then Fantasy Fest followed by Christmas week. And it will be season again!

The slower pace, the fewer people, provide locals with the opportunity to recoup. A reset every now and then hurts no one.

A busy Chart Room last night. Met my Greek friends Theo and Dina at 6. A good bye drink together. They leave for northern Florida today. Will be questing at Mar a Lago beginning Wednesday.

Buffalo’s Tom and Fran at the bar. They have guests from the Syracuse area. Love Tom and Fran! We have been friends for at least 10 years. I was quick to ask and Fran quick to advise she brought me more sauce and meat. Plus, low carb bread.

She worries about my health.

I left for Donna and Terri’s at 6:45. Dinner at 7 at their home.

Donna cooking. A great meal! Some kind of chicken dish and pasta.

Donna and Terri both looking good. Vibrant. Even Bear.

I was home and in bed by 9:30. There was a time when I had not even gone out yet for the night at 9:30.

Sunday down to basics. Hot Dog Church, the Gardens, and the Chart Room. Maybe dinner at La Trattoria. I suspect I only will make Hot Dog Church and the Chart Room.

Key West is known for many things. Would take pages to list them all. Three prominent ones include the sunset, authors, and artists.

The sunsets draw people from all over theworld. Something mystic about standing at Mallory Square and watching the sun dip over the horizon.

Oh, so many authors! Too many to list at one time. The better known include Ernest Hemingway, Tennessee Williams, Robert Frost, and Judy Blume.

Artists galore! Key West’s Bohemian atmosphere attracts them.

The soul of our Nation is wounded. Our political differences a knife in the chest. Resolution required.

The Catholic Mass has a part known as Agnus Dei. Latin for “Grant Us Peace.”

We need some Agnus Dei.

Shrimp boats are a comin’, their sails are in sight…..

A popular song published in 1951.

On the rare occasions I hear the tune these days, it reminds me of another coming. Not a religious one. Not a boat.

Robots!

Every day, more and more.

Recognize that as robot workers increase, the human work force decreases. Jobs will be less. People will really be hung up for work.

The situation a major problem around the corner. No one seems to be worrying about it.

Robots will result in consumer goods being cheaper. What value if consumers do not have the money to buy less expensive goods?

Enjoy your Sunday!

THE SEASON IS OVER…..PEACE AND QUIET RETURN was originally published on Key West Lou

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 3 years

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7th June >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 5:1-12 for Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time: ‘Happy those who mourn: they shall be comforted’.

Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Except USA)

Matthew 5:1-12

How happy are the poor in spirit.

Seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the hill. There he sat down and was joined by his disciples. Then he began to speak. This is what he taught them:

‘How happy are the poor in spirit; theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Happy the gentle: they shall have the earth for their heritage. Happy those who mourn: they shall be comforted. Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right: they shall be satisfied. Happy the merciful: they shall have mercy shown them. Happy the pure in heart: they shall see God. Happy the peacemakers: they shall be called sons of God. Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right: theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

‘Happy are you when people abuse you and persecute you and speak all kinds of calumny against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven: this is how they persecuted the prophets before you.’

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 5:1-12

Blessed are the poor in spirit.

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven. Thus they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

Reflections (7)

(i) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

This morning we begin to read from Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. We will be reading from this letter for the next several weeks. It is a powerful letter and is well worth reflecting upon. In today’s first reading, Paul declares that in the midst of suffering and sorrows the God of consolation is always present to us. God consoles us in our sorrows, so that we can be a consoling presence to others in their sorrows. We all go through our own suffering and sorrow at different times in our lives. If we allow God to touch our lives in those moments with his consoling and strengthening presence, then we will be empowered to support others as they go through their own valley of darkness. Paul knew great hardship and suffering, but he experienced the Lord’s strengthening and consoling presence in the midst of it all. That is why he could be such a source of encouragement to his churches when they were struggling. In today’s gospel reading, which is well-known to us as the Beatitudes, Jesus says, ‘Happy those who mourn; they shall be comforted’. It seems strange to declare those who mourn ‘happy’ or ‘blessed’. Yet, Jesus is saying they are happy because in their sadness and pain they can experienced God’s comforting and consoling presence in a much fuller way that if all was well. The darker experiences of life can open us up to God’s loving and sustaining presence and enable us to bring the Lord’s comforting presence to others in their times of sorrow and distress.

And/Or

(ii) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

Portrait painting is a very specialized skill. When I am in London I love to visit the portrait gallery just off Trafalgar Square. There are wonderful portraits there of all kinds of people from the present time back through the centuries. People like to have their portraits painted. If you are ever in Rome and you go to Piazza Navona you will find people sitting to have their portraits pained by local artists. I like to think of the beatitudes as painting a portrait. When Jesus spoke those beatitudes he was painting a portrait of himself. He is poor in spirit, in that he depends on God for everything; he is gentle and humble of heart; he mourns because God’s will is not being done on earth as in heaven; he hungers and thirst for what is right, for what God wants, and is prepared to suffer to bring that about; he is merciful to the broken and the sinner; he has a purity of intention, wanting only what God wants; he works to make peace between God and humanity and among human beings. In painting a portrait of himself, Jesus was also painting a portrait of his followers. It is our portrait, and we are called to try and fit that portrait. We cannot become the person of the beatitudes on our own; we need the help of the Holy Spirit who works within us to mould us into the image and likeness of Christ.

And/Or

(iii) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

For the next couple of weeks the gospel reading will be taken from the Sermon on the Mount. The Beatitudes which is this morning’s gospel reading come at the very beginning of the Sermon on the Mount. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus puts before his disciples, before us, a very demanding way of life. In the Beatitudes he declares that those who embrace such a way of life are blessed, are fortunate. If Jesus can convey a sense that those who follow the way of life he is about to outline are truly blessed then such a way of living will become something we want rather than just something we are required to do. The values of the beatitudes are the core values of the Sermon Jesus is about to preach. If we allow our lives to be shaped by these values, then we are indeed blessed, even though that may not be at all obvious to others, or even to ourselves. Jesus is suggesting that we don’t find authentic happiness, the state of being blessed by God, by pursuing happiness. Rather, to find real happiness we have to set our sights on something beyond happiness, on those kingdom values that Jesus proclaimed by his teaching in the Sermon on the Mount, and by his life and his death.

And/Or

(iv) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

This morning’s gospel reading is the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel. It is a very striking beginning. The Beatitudes express in a very succinct form the vision of Jesus for human living, and, in particular, for living as his followers, as his disciples. The qualities Jesus refers to in those nine beatitudes find fullest expression in Jesus’ own life. He was ‘poor in spirit’ in that he recognized his dependence on God his Father for the work he was sent to do. He was ‘pure in heart’ in that his heart, his desire, was focused on doing God’s will and on the coming of God’s kingdom. He was ‘merciful’ in that he brought God’s merciful love to those who were broken in body, mind, heart or spirit. He ‘hungered and thirsted for what is right’, for what God wanted, and was prepared to be persecuted for being true to that deep hunger and thirst. When we look at the beatitudes, we are looking at Jesus, but we are also looking at the person that Jesus is calling us to become. To live the beatitudes is to become, in the words of Saint Paul, fully mature with the fullness of Christ himself. When we live the beatitudes, as Jesus did, we will be truly blessed, because we will receive in abundance from God, ‘we will be comforted, we will be satisfied, we will have mercy shown us...’ This is indeed a gospel passage that is worth pondering, allowing it to seep into us so that it really shapes us.

And/Or

(v) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

The gospel reading this morning is one of the most familiar texts in the gospels. It’s very familiarity can blunt our awareness of how radical a message is being spoken. Jesus declares blessed those who live according to certain values and attitudes. They are blessed, not so much because of their present situation, but because of a future situation that God will bring about for them. The poor in spirit are those who are aware of their own lack of resources and look to God for salvation. The ‘gentle’ are the opposite of those who are grasping; they are unselfish rather than on the make. Those who mourn are those who are disturbed by the present state of the world and long for its liberation from poverty, violence and disease. Those who hunger and thirst for what is right are people who have a longing for the justice that God desires for all people and actively pursue it. The merciful are those who bring God’s merciful love to the broken in body, mind and spirit. The pure in heart are those who are totally dedicated to God and to God’s cause; they are single-minded in their pursuit of what God wants for the world. The peacemakers are those who actively work for a peace based on God’s justice. Having declared all of the above categories of people blessed, Jesus concluded by declaring blessed those who are prepared to suffer persecution in the pursuit of what is right, of what God desires for his world. It has been said that the one person who gives full expression to all of the attitudes and values expressed in the beatitudes is Jesus himself. He above all is the one who is poor in spirit and gentle, who mourns for the way things are and who hungers for what is right, who is merciful and pure in heart, who is a peacemaker and is prepared to suffer in the cause of right. At the same time, Jesus is offering us in the beatitudes a vision for human living to which he calls us all to aspire. If the beatitudes are Jesus’ own self-portrait, they are also a portrait of his disciple. Later on in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus will say, ‘Learn from me’. He can learn from him how to live the beatitudes and his Spirit will empower us to live them.

And/Or

(vi) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

The Beatitudes are one of the best-known texts in the gospels. Jesus declares ‘blessed’ or ‘happy’ those who live by a certain set of values that Jesus himself gives expression to in his own life. They are ‘blessed’ not such much because of their present situation but because of the ultimate future which these values open up for them in eternity. Jesus promises that for those who live by these values, ‘theirs is the kingdom of heaven’. He outlines a set of attitudes and values that leads to life in God’s kingdom. He is describing the way of life which God desires for us and which Jesus himself lived to the full. Jesus is giving us a portrait of both himself and of his disciples. Such people will be poor in spirit, acknowledging their poverty before God and their need of God. They will be gentle rather than arrogantly insisting on their own way. They will mourn because the world is out of sorts and not as God wants it. They will have a deep hunger and thirst for God’s justice to come into our world. They will reveal God’s merciful love to the broken and work for peace and reconciliation in the world. They will have that purity of intention which keeps putting what God desires first. They are ready to suffer for the sake of a right and just way of life for all. Jesus promises that if we travel this path as he did, then we will come to share in the fullness of God’s blessing.

And/Or

(vii) Monday, Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus declares blessed or fortunate those who embrace a certain way of life. He is saying that those who live according to these values and attitudes are blessed not because of their present situation but because a future situation that will come about for them through the power and fidelity of God. Those who live according to these values are blessed because of the future that God has in store for them. In the present they may not seem blessed to others. How can it be said that those who mourn are fortunate or blessed? Jesus is saying that those who experience sadness because of the present state of the world and who, as a result, have a passionate commitment to justice, who hunger and thirst for what is right, and are prepared to be persecuted in the cause of right, will be comforted, will be satisfied, in the kingdom of heaven. The attitudes and values that Jesus espouses in the beatitudes make people vulnerable in the eyes of the world, being poor in spirit, gentle, merciful to others, pure in heart. They are not a recipe for getting on in the world. They are the opposite of the competitive and grasping spirit that stops at nothing to get ahead, that will allow no one to stand in the way of reaching the top. These are all attitudes and value that give space to God in one’s life and, thereby, promote the coming of God’s kingdom, the doing of God’s will, in the world. God in Jesus looks upon such people and says to them, ‘Congratulation! You are indeed blessed, because you are living as I intended, as sons and daughters of God, and you will know a happiness that this world cannot give’. Jesus is saying that this is the path to happiness not just in the next life but in this life too.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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noiseartists · 4 years

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The Academy Of Sun: Psychaedelic Pop from Brighton

Formed in Brighton nine years ago, The Academy of Sun is a four-piece comprised of Nick Hudson (piano, synths, hammon organ, harmonium, vocals, percussion, synths), Kianna Blue (bass, synths), Guy Brice (guitars) and Ash Babb (drums). Together, they present dystopian fantastic creations that combine the deeply personal and the poetically arcane. Dark yet buoyant, this is a controlled explosion of psychedelic and dark power pop with atmospheres couched in vast and expansive landscapes and cinematic arrangements.

Nick Hudson's musical juggernaut has been active in various incarnations since 2012, always transcending expectations. The Academy Of Sun has collaborated with Massive Attack's Shara Nelson, members of NYC's Kayo Dot, David Tibet of Current 93, Asva and Matthew Seligman (Bowie, Tori Amos, Morrissey). Hudson has also collaborated with Wayne Hussey of The Mission, as well as Canadian queercore icon GB Jones. Known for explosive and psychedelic live shows, The Academy Of Sun has performed in a medieval castle in Italy, a boat on the Thames, an abandoned railway carriage in Offenbach, colossal churches, The London College of Fashion, The Old Market theatre in Brighton, the MS Stubnitz in Hamburg, Brighton Dome, and a string of L.A. shows in 2019. Having toured 3 continents, highlights include appearances with Mogwai, Toby Driver and Keith Abrams from Kayo Dot, and Timba Harris (Mr Bungle, Amanda Palmer). 'The Parts That Need Replacing' is out now, available across online stores and streaming platforms such as Spotify. The full album 'The Quiet Earth' will be released in summer of 2020 on CD, as well as digitally.

THE INTERVIEW

Who are the group members?

Myself, Kianna Blue, Ash Babb, Guy Brice.

How did you meet?

A poet introduced Kianna and I. We ended up living together, In our modest cottage on the edge of a cliff we kept house goats. Guy was one of them. It became quickly apparent that if he kept his hooves pedicured, he had an incredible way with a guitar. Ash and I met in a local tavern, courtesy of a mutual online awareness via the blog of author Dennis Cooper.

How did you come up with your name?

I'd been reading literature on pagan sun-worshipping cults and came across Heliogabalus, the queer teenage anarchist emperor of ancient Rome. Artaud wrote on him. So I wanted to unleash and harness the unkempt nuclear blaze of that energy within a formalist framework.

What is your music about?

It's about invigoration and alchemy – stimulating the mind and soul in tandem with the body. Music to dance and cry to. It's about pole-vaulting transgressive and subversive narratives over the iron gate of mainstream normativity. Spiraling wells of energy and dynamism. Loud and shimmering vibrancy. “Did I really hear that?”

What are your goals as an artist artistically/commercially?

Artistically I just want to continually evolve my craft, critical faculties, and general state of awareness so as I can get ever closer to precisely articulating the atmospheres, geometries and ghost stories that circle my head like ever-mutating angels, day and night, on the brink of expelling light and form. And in doing so, to gather those who are similarly drawn to peering through the cracks. Commercially, I - and we - really just want to connect this with a bigger audience. We're aware that we're a weird band, and that it's a long game. So it demands stoicism, patience and persistence. The ideal would be to get to a level where we have sufficient economic backing to be able to actually deploy all the ideas we have without compromising on logistics or production values.

What are you trying to avoid as a band?

The music industry.

Why do you make the music you make? Is it in you? Is it your environment?

It's more interior than exterior. Albeit I respond very palpably to landscapes, just not the one that I'm writing this interview from within! Haha. I'm drawn to severe, wild landscapes, and likewise to art and music that evokes such landscapes.

What inspires you for the music or for the Lyrics?

I've always written prose and poetry, and so a key factor in my embarking upon songwriting fifteen years ago was preserving the conditions of unabashed literary aspirations in my lyrics. I like to think/strive to ensure that as much as they might stand successfully alone on the page they also transmit the melodies with ease. I'm drawn to art in any medium that explores and expresses extreme states of being – modes of transcendence, ultimately. Ecstasies, agonies, the uncanny, the transgressive, the sublime. Stillness can also be extreme. Lots of nature imagery. European cinema and literature.

Tell us what you are looking when trying to achieve your sounds. Do you experiment a lot or have a clear idea of what you want?

I think we all share a delight in unusual sonics – there were some genuinely experimental moments in the studio – for example, the first sound heard on the record is a drone created by my playing a pre-recorded vocal through the speaker of a cassette recorder into the pick-ups on Guy's guitar, which was then sent through waves of delay. We created a MIDI church organ by recording the bass pedals of the church organ of St Mary's, Brighton and turning that into a MIDI instrument. The idea of pitch-bending such a monolithic and defiantly analogue instrument was irresistible. There's one track where we recorded the drum part four times and placed each take peculiarly across the stereo field. And there are field recordings scattered throughout, evoking radioactivity and harsh landscapes. I usually, with each track, have a pretty clear idea of the aesthetic and formal parameters within which experimentation can occur, and we go from there.

Explain your songwriting process.

Sometimes I'll be improvising on piano and motifs will surface that later impose their will upon my subconscious, continually knocking until I open the door and allow them to become a song. Other times I'll have the completed lyrics and sit and just experiment with ways to place them, and edit, and edit until they're homed. Some songs arrive in one swift nuclear wind, and others take years to ferment. I keep a lot of audio notes on my iphone.

Describe your palette of sound.

Rich but not cloying, Psychedelic but not nostalgic. Adventurous. Green and gold. Complex but not arbitrarily technical. Deconstructing, rerouting and inverting obvious formal choices but not at the expense of comprehension.

Who would you want as a dream producer, and why?

Trent Reznor, Bjork, Tim Palmer, David Lynch, Danny Elfman. I thought I'd compensate for not saying 'why' by instead listing five, haha.

If you could guest on someone else’s album, who would it be and why? What would you play?

Well I know he's technically on the cusp of retiring, but assuming this questions dwells in an amorphous temporality (as we do ourselves under quarantine), I'd say Ennio Morricone. Because he's peerless. I would love to have played piano/organ on one of his sixties/seventies film works. To say I've been produced by Morricone and appear on, say, the Sacco and Vanzetti soundtrack, would see me fairly ecstatic.

What musical skills would you like to acquire or get better at?

I'd like develop further fluency in classical notation and orchestration.

Which other musician/artist would you date?

I don't really subscribe to coupledom or its rituals but maybe Jack from These New Puritans. NB. I would never, EVER date a musician. Haha.

Is there a band that if they didn’t exist you wouldn’t be making the music you make?

Probably Mr Bungle. In that they not only blew my mind at a young age with their own music, but laid breadcrumbs for me to explore the family tree of John Zorn, Tzadik, and the sprawling concentric circles of artists making up the experimental underground of LA and NYC.

You are from England. What are the advantages and inconvenient?

Hold my hair back. Well. Its primary advantage is its proximity to the European mainland.

Its disadvantages are manifold and voluminous – aside from a micro-percentage of wonderful, compassionate, intelligent and progressive entities and institutions, its a nasty little hotbed of misplaced Churchillian hubris and post-imperial egocentrism, ruled as a playpen by which neo-liberal public schoolboy millionaires can move their assets around and grow their wealth while 'ironically' masquerading a paper-thin veneer of concern for the public interest and welfare.

Boris Johnson and his monstrous cabal aside, the UK treats its musicians appallingly. I've toured Europe, America and The Middle East and it shames me to say that the worst treatment I've experienced out of any of the countries I've played is that of the UK. I'm not alone in this assertion either.

There are exceptions of course, but as a rule, this sadly remains the case. Ten years of Tory rule certainly hasn't helped this.

What are some places around the world that you hope to play with your band?

There's that amphitheater built into a rock face somewhere in Central Europe. I'd like to do a tour of churches and cathedrals. And acoustically-dynamic natural rock formations.

It's my dream to take The Academy Of Sun on an extensive tour of Europe, but we'd need solid economic backing to be able to do so with production values intact, let alone keep us all afloat while doing so.

So that's something to push for. There's a pueblo in New Mexico called TAOS – obviously it's pre-destined that we play there. I went to Svalbard in the Arctic last year, and there's a beautiful concert hall called Huset right between two glaciers. I'd love us to play there. (Johannes, are you reading this?)

When is the next album/EP due?

June! We inevitably had to postpone the release from its intended release in April, when the whole world went on pause. We're super-excited to have you all hear The Quiet Earth.

Some artists you recommend

I can't get enough of Oingo Boingo right now – Danny Elfman's band that split in 1995. Peerless songwriting, arrangement, production and performance. Otherwise, Arca is amazing. I'm listening to a lot of Nico. Devouring Clive Barker's early novels. Revisiting Diamanda Galas' earlier catalogue. Watching a lot of Chris Marker and Maya Deren. And I just read Marina Abramovic's memoir, which is profoundly inspiring.

Anything else you want your fans to know?

Mainly – thank you for your support, engagement and enthusiasm, especially during this wayward, hazy and anxiety-inducing time. We hope you'll enjoy the record, and we're super-psyched to play shows all over the place when concerts are indeed a viable concern once again. Stay well, breathe deep, and celebrate and nurture the connections that enrich, comfort, soothe and embolden you.

MORE ON THE BAND

Find The Academy Of Sun here:

bandcamp

soundcloud

facebook

twitter

instagram

#Brighton

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the-record-columns · 5 years

Text

Oct. 9, 2019: Columns

The Judge…

Judge Julius A. Rousseau

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

Judge Julius A. Rousseau, retired Senior Superior Court Judge for the 23d Judicial District, formerly of Wilkesboro, husband of Gary Rousseau, died on Thursday, Oct. 3, 2019. A Celebration of Life Service will be held at the North Wilkesboro First United Methodist Church on Sixth Street in North Wilkesboro at noon, Saturday, Oct. 12.

***

While I didn't have any what you would call any "business end" dealings with Judge Rousseau, i.e., a defendant on trial, our paths did cross a time of two and then fairly often after he retired. A man who most anyone who ever met him would call him at a minimum a serious person, did have a bit of a sense of humor, tinged with a bit of irony.

Many years ago, when I was working for Paul Cashion at WWWC Radio in advertising, I seemed to get called for jury duty every term. Really, six or eight times. First, know that I almost never got to serve on a jury, but had to be there nonetheless. One week I was in court being held by Judge Rousseau and I saw his sternness on display as well as a sense of humor.

There was an attorney from Charlotte representing someone during the term I was on jury duty with The Judge, and, in the course of the proceedings, you got the feeling this particular guy felt as though he was somewhat above the rest of us gathered that day. As things progressed, this attorney made what Judge Rousseau perceived at one smart crack too many and The Judge stood up and motioned for the attorney to come forward.

Which he did.

Then, in a "whisper" the entire courtroom could hear, Judge Rousseau said, "Sir, if I hear that tone one more time today, I am going to land on you like a hawk on a mouse. Do you understand me?"

After a simple "Yes, sir," the chastised attorney returned to his table and behaved the rest of the day. I loved that line, and have borrowed it often, "...like a hawk on a mouse."

One other time I was on jury duty in Judge Rousseau's court, I was sitting bored on the front row passing the time eating from a pack of old Lifesavers I found in my jacket pocket. Unwilling to just suck the candy, I decided to make a little whistle out of it by holding it in my lips and breathing through the hole.

You know where this is going.

The candy got thinner and in one fateful breath, it was sucked onto my windpipe and I thought I was going to choke to death. I did everything I could not to make a noise, but finally had to try to cough and clear the obstruction. It was not fun. And it was loud. And embarrassing.

After what seemed like forever, I heard the gavel hit and Judge Rousseau says, "Well, let's see if Mr. Welborn lives or dies before we proceed."

And he smiled.

But my favorite story comes from Monroe.

I had occasion to hire an attorney there named John Painter. I knew I had picked a good one when I had to stand in his office which was lined wall-to wall with clients when I came to town for court.

Mr. Painter called the roll like a school teacher with folks saying "here" or "present" like they were in class as well. When he came to my name, well down on the list what with that "W" start, Mr. Painter paused and asked me to raise my hand. "Says here you are from North Wilkesboro, do you by any chance know a judge named Julius Rousseau?"

"I see him every week." I replied. He walked back to me and asked, "Why would you see him that often?"

I went on to tell him that since Judge Rousseau had retired, he had an office space right across from my office on Main Street in Billy McElwee's law offices. We often nodded hello on the street and he sometimes would come into my office to look at the old things on display everywhere.

Mr. Painter went on to ask me to tell The Judge the next time I had a chance to speak with him, that, "...the epidemic is over."

Of course I inquired about that and he went on to tell me that the epidemic was known in Union County as "The Rousseau Flu," a malady that afflicted lawyers who would see the new docket come out, see Judge Rousseau's name, and say, "Oh, I am going to have the flu the first week of February," or whenever.

The next time I happened upon Judge Rousseau he was at dinner with his wife, Gary, and Jim and Theda Moore at the Elk's Lodge. I took a moment of their time and went over Mr. Painters message that the epidemic of "The Rousseau Flu" was now over.

He smiled again.

Breaking the Stigma

By HEATHER DEAN

Record Reporter

September was National Recovery month, which is a national observance to increase awareness and educate Americans about substance and mental health disorders in an effort for us to understand the journey of those on the path to recovery and what we can do to help.

The Wilkes County Public Library currently has an exhibit featuring images of people and their recovery stories by artist Doug Lail. On Saturday, Oct. 26, at 2 p.m., he is the featured speaker of "Hello, My Name Is…"

We may think that we are doing better as a society, in addressing these issues, but the reality is, substance abuse in Wilkes County is still a severe problem. I recently wrote a story that Surry has overtaken Wilkes for the #1 spot, but we are still in the top ten on the list of “worst counties in N.C.”

That being said: How do we begin to break the stigma of addiction, when we start towing cars that belong to people attending a local downtown AA meeting? People that are fighting an addiction, many on their own and this group is the only support they have, yet their cars start being towed because they are in a meeting the same time as the Apple Festival?

That’s exactly what I saw as I was out taking pictures of the festival. Now, the tow guy was just doing what he had been told to do by the powers that be, and obviously there had been major communication, however…those meetings have been held there for over 8 months.

Sure, the Apple Festival is a big deal for us, but it’s only one day a year.

Recovery is every day, every day for the rest of your life. If someone is upset because they don’t get to park closer to the festival and have to walk further, may I suggest they walk in the shoes of someone in recovery for a day?

If you or someone you know needs help, call Wilkes Recovery Revolution at 336.818.1909 or AA at 336.927.5593, at 307 Forester Avenue, located off D Street and the CBD loop.

The rising tide of hatred

By AMBASSADOR EARL COX and KATHLEEN COX

Special to The Record

Around the globe, hatred for Jews is at an all-time high.

While we are familiar with the synagogue shootings which have taken place here in the United States and the desecration of Jewish cemeteries, as heinous as these acts have been, the situation for Jews is far worse in the UK, Germany, New Zealand, Ireland and elsewhere.

Beginning is 1984, an entity called the Community Security Trust, a nonprofit watchdog charity registered in Scotland, Wales and England, began compiling data on anti-Semitic incidents in the UK (United Kingdom). According to their figures, there were 1,382 anti-Semitic incidents recorded nationwide in 2017 and this figure takes into account only those incidences which were officially reported. Culturally, Jews refuse to be painted as victims. Consequently, many acts of anti-Semitism go unreported. In the past three years, the number of hate crimes against Jews has continued to climb. On average, the Jewish community in the UK is targeted at a rate of nearly four times a day.

Research indicates that there is no obvious single cause behind the upward trend in violent crimes against Jews. These acts are not triggered in response to any identifiable event but rather are purely evil acts of baseless hatred. It’s becoming common in the UK, Germany, France and elsewhere for Jewish people to be subjected to verbal abuse in public for no other reason than being Jewish. This was the atmosphere just prior to World War II and the rise of Hitler’s Germany. This same atmosphere is again manifesting in today’s Germany.

Hatred is rising and Jewish people are suffering. This should concern everybody. Anger and division are a threat to all of society.

Laws have been passed but prosecutions need to be more visible. Perpetrators need to be identified and held accountable for their malicious, criminal behavior and actions. Jews are being singled out disproportionately and with increasing violence due to the spread of anti-Semitic conspiracy myths originating from Islamists, the far left and the far right, left-leaning academics and the liberal media. This should serve as a wake-up call for us all.

No where in the civilized world should hatred against any particular people group be tolerated. Those who proclaim “death to Israel and death to America” must be held accountable. If we turn a blind eye and convince ourselves that another Holocaust is impossible, then we are delusional.

In the famous words of Edmund Burke, an Anglo-Irish statesman and philosopher, “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing.”

What will you do?

Apple Pie is a family thing

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolina

I have come to understand that Apple Pie is far more than dessert.

It’s true that our beloved tasty treat takes on many forms and flavors. That’s part of what makes it the perfect end to a nice meal.

At other times we just like to enjoy our pie with a cup of coffee, a glass of milk or for some a glass of sweet tea, because it can never be too sweet. A good pie is best enjoyed one slow bite at a time. No need to rush something so wonderful.

Freshly pealed and sliced tart apples, like the Granny Smith variety, make fine pies as they hold up better unless you prefer a mushy pie. Some people do and that’s also wonderful. Apples are always accommodating.

We have recently been working on a broadcast special that will focus on some of the Carolinas’ most tasty apple treats. On our schedule we visited a few Apple Festivals in the Carolinas.

We were happy with our visit to the 42nd Annual Brushy Mountain Apple Festival. We have covered the event in the past; however, this time the total focus was on Apple Pies, Apple Butter and to our surprise a delightful Apple Donut made by the Duck Donut Folks.

The first visit of the day was with Ma’s Apple Pies, which were made on location. The dough was portioned prior to the festival; however, it was hand rolled, filled with spiced dried apples, folded and deep-fried right there for everyone to see. They were so good that no one seemed to mind the wait.

Ma, also known as Vicky Tilley, shared her story with us. The only place you can get one of Ma’s freshly made fried Apple Pies is at the Brushy Mountain Apple Festival.

It’s also a family tradition. Very early on Apple Festival morning, Ma’s family comes together at their location, which has been beside the Wells Fargo stage for around 16 years.

As soon as the booth is set up, they start making pies. Local folks who are in the know arrive early and get in line even before the festival opens.

Family members shared that while it makes for a long day of nonstop pie making, it’s wonderful family time together and seeing people respond in such a positive way makes the whole family proud.

Our next visit was with members of the Brushy Mountain Fire Department, who were at the corner of Main Street and 9th. They have had the same spot for 42 years. They bring in WWI-era wood burning ovens to bake their traditional spiced apple pies. They always have a line and normally sell out by noon. It’s a fantastic nostalgic journey. As I am writing this now, I can vividly recall the smell of the smoke, the crackling of the burning wood and the flames from the fire being stoked.

When the pies came out of the oven one of the firemen rang a cow bell and yelled, “Fresh Hot Apple Pies Come and get ‘em.” And They did.

All 4,000 of them.

The profits from the Fire Department’s annual efforts help pay for their clothing and other needed items. The brotherhood, or family, of firefighters pulls together to make it all happen.

We visited with the folks who make delicious Apple Butter on location. We learned about how it’s made and why. It was and is a great way to use the apples during and at the end of the season so they do not spoil.

One more tasty stop was with the folks at Duck Donuts, who featured two delightful apple-infused donuts that are made to order. The line was long and once again no one seemed to care.

We are all part of a family tree and apples grow on trees. Maybe that’s why we love them so much.

Carl White is the Executive Producer and Host of the award-winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In The Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its 10th year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday’s at noon and My 12. The show also streams on Amazon Prime. For more information visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com. You can email Carl at [email protected]

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derneue3-blog · 5 years

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6 Secrets for Taking Unique Photos in Tourist Hot Spots

There's more to shooting major cities than typical tourist destinations. Learn how to find the hidden corners of popular locations with tips from these six experienced travel photographers.

In the late 19th century, photographers like Francis Bedford, Solomon Nunes Carvalho, and Francis Frith showed us the world. Through their images, the public was able to see the Egyptian pyramids, the churches of Jerusalem, and the plains of the American West for the first time. In the last 100-plus years, travelers with cameras have revealed extraordinary places and shared the stories of countless people. Today, we can access faraway cities with the click of a button, and few locations remain unphotographed.

The digital era forever changed the way we travel. For professional photographers and tourists alike, photography has become an indispensable part of the way we experience new places and cultures. On Instagram, popular hashtags like #wanderlust, #instatravel, #travelstories, #travelmemories, #travelgram, and more bring up millions of photographs from people around the world.

We wanted to know exactly what it takes to find a unique point of view in 2019, so we asked six travel photographers to tell us about how they find hidden gems in big tourist cities. Below, they take us on a journey to Dubai, Venice, Russia, Prague, Munich, and the “Blue City” of Morocco, revealing unexpected street corners and out-of-the-way treasures.

1. “When I'm on location, I always ask a receptionist at the hotel for recommendations.”

Shahid Khan

Image by Shahid Khan. Gear: Nikon D750 camera, Nikon 24-120 f/4 lens. Settings: Focal length 82mm; exposure 1/640 sec; f8; ISO 400.

What's the story behind this photo?

While in Dubai, I took advantage of a day pass and used it on the metro to go from one end of the line to the other end. While passing through the downtown area, I saw the high-rise buildings on both sides of the metro line, and it looked like a scene from a sci-fi movie. I set my camera on a faster shutter speed to avoid any camera shake. The good thing about the metro in Dubai is that it's driverless, so with a little effort, I got a spot at the front and had an uninterrupted view.

Image by Shahid Khan.

Pro Tip

Obviously, the first point of contact is Google. An image search will show you the main landmarks and the popular points of view. I usually scroll down a bit to see images other than the major landmarks and note down the names of the locations that interest me. My second choice is Flickr. The good thing about Flickr is that you can get in touch with local photographers for tips, and the trick is to contact at least five photographers so you get a response from at least one or two.

When I'm on location, I always ask a receptionist at the hotel for recommendations. I've gotten great recommendations from receptionists and waiters alike. I always visit the information center, if there is one in town, and I get ahold of all the pamphlets I can. They will sometimes have information about hidden landmarks or free walks. When I am in a city for a bit longer, I always take time to roam aimlessly by foot or on public transport.

Instagram | Website

2. “I read tourist guides and blogs by locals, and I learn about how this city has been depicted by artists in the past.”

kavalenkava

Image by kavalenkava. Gear: Canon EOS 5D Mark III camera; Canon EF 70-200mm f/4L IS USM lens. Settings: Focal length 97mm; Exposure 0.3 sec; f8.0; ISO 200.

What's the story behind this photo?

This is one of my favorite Prague views, seen from one of the Prague towers, located a distance away from the usual tourist routes. There were no sightseeing groups or signs advertising this spot, and at first, it was unclear whether or not it was possible to climb the tower. After a while, we found an inconspicuous door, and it turned out that you can climb the tower for a small fee. There were few visitors, which allowed us to take photos before and after sunset and to use a tripod.

This view is much more interesting than the well-known views from Old Town Square, and it includes the most famous sites: the Church of Our Lady of Tyn and Prague Castle, as well as the rooftops of the old city. I took this photo at sunset, when the yellow and red colors of the sun combined with the illumination of the buildings. The city looked like a magic box.

Image by kavalenkava.

Pro Tip

I begin my search for “hidden gems” long before planning a trip. I follow a variety of Instagram accounts and blogs, study popular photos on Shutterstock, save interesting photos and drawings, and sort them by country and city.

I then get acquainted with the history of the city itself in order to understand what matters to its inhabitants. I read tourist guides and blogs by locals, and I learn about how this city has been depicted by artists in the past. I mark the attractions that interest me on an online map, and I look for places that offer an overhead view of the city, including bell towers in churches, shopping centers, or restaurants with panoramic terraces.

From there, I wander around the main sights. I go far from the central tourist routes because the most beautiful views can often be found at a distance. If there is a hill or a mountain in the city, I will definitely be there. Sometimes, locals will offer to show you interesting places when they find out that you are a photographer. Do not hesitate to ask tourist office staff members, hotel administrators, and even souvenir merchants for advice.

Choose a hotel room or apartment based on the view, or hop onto social networks and look for people who would be happy to take you to their balcony or roof. Also, many hotels will have restaurants with terraces on the roof; in that case, you can go have lunch and get an exclusive shot at the same time.

But my most important tip for finding real gems when traveling to new places is simple: If you see something interesting, take your photo right away. You may not get a second chance. Often, when people see an interesting place, they might say to themselves, “I am tired now. I'll rest and come back later” or “Today is only the first day, I will pass this spot a hundred times.” But the truth is that you might never get a chance to return.

Instagram

3. “Using sites like Flickr, 500px, or even Google Images will help you find new perspectives or locations.”

DaLiu

Image by DaLiu. Gear: Canon 5D Mark IV camera, Canon EF 16-35mm f/4 IS USM lens. Settings: Focal length 16mm; exposure 1/160 sec; f8; ISO 100.

What's the story behind this photo?

The first time I visited Venice, I had only half a day in the city, and it was overloaded with tourists, so last year, my wife and I decided to go in January to avoid the crowds. I started searching for iconic locations in Venice, and, of course, everything was obvious. I had the almost impossible task of finding beautiful and unknown spots, but at some point, I found a picture on 500px with a building in Venice surrounded by canals all the way around.

It was an interesting view, but, of course, the author of the photo hadn't specified the location of the building, so I started to think about how I could find it. Luckily, the old city of Venice is not big, so it took me some time, but in the end I did manage to find it on Google Maps.

DaLiu

Pictured: [1] DaLiu [2] DaLiu [3] DaLiu

Pro Tip

When I start planning a trip to a new city, I do a lot of background work beforehand. I look for photos online to see all the iconic spots, and after that, I dig deeper on the internet to find lesser-known locations. Using sites like Flickr, 500px, or even Google Images will help you find new perspectives or locations. Where possible, try Street View on Google Maps, and search for articles online about the city you're visiting.

In most cases, this kind of preparation will give you something, even if it's not totally unique. You just need to be patient and put in the time needed for scouting new shots. I usually try to find these areas before I leave for any trip. It'll save you a lot of time, and, in many cases, even the locals won't be able to help you to find exact locations.

Other than that, the best tip or trick I can give is to walk around outside of the most popular locations and explore the city. Once you find something unique and photogenic, make a plan. Check to see if it'll look best at sunset, sunrise, or even midday, and then come back at the right time for your shoot.

Instagram

4. “When you go to those famous places, talk to the locals. They always give a ton of tips about the city.”

Burak Budak

Image by Burak Budak. Gear: Nikon d7100 camera, Tokina 11-16 dxII lens. Settings: Focal length 11mm; exposure 1/250 sec; f4.5; ISO 200.

What's the story behind this photo?

When I was in Chefchaouen, Morocco, everything was all about the famous blue houses and streets. But when I started to talk with the locals, they told me that there is also an amazing natural waterfall. I rented a car and made the trip with a few friends from my hostel. It was hard to get there, but it was worth it.

Image by Burak Budak.

Pro Tip

When I travel to different countries, I always try to find a local photographer, and, if possible, we travel together in the city. They always know where to go and, of course, where to eat. Before my trips, the first thing I do is check blogs about the city. If you want to find secret places in a big city, you need to know the famous places first. When you go to those famous places, talk to the locals. They always give a ton of tips about the city.

Couchsurfing is another resource I use. I let people in the area know what I'm doing and what I'm looking for, and I ask questions. I find a lot of places that way. The most important thing to remember is that you need to walk a lot. Walking and waiting are key.

Instagram | Twitter | Website

5. “Look for movement, and either freeze it or show it with a slow shutter speed. Your creativity is what will make your photos special.”

Christophe Faugere

Image by Christophe Faugere. Gear: Canon 5D Mark II camera, 16-35mm F2.8 II lens. Settings: Exposure 13 sec; f13; ISO 50 (I used several shots to add car lights).

What's the story behind this photo?

I was walking-running, in fact-between several landmarks at the blue hour when I crossed a street near Saint Isaac's Cathedral in St Petersburg, Russia. The Cathedral was not very close, but the cars passing by had lights on, and the lights of the city matched the sky. I just stopped there and took some shots. This one has quickly become my best-seller.

Image by Christophe Faugere.

Pro Tip

My first tip is to use your feet. Before leaving for a photo trip, I try to do minimal research on Google. I don't want to miss the landmarks because those photos are what I'm going to sell. I'll usually be at those spots for sunset (or sunrise), but, apart from that, I just walk a lot. Walking from one spot to another, slowly, will enable you to find unknown places.

But honestly, nowadays, there are hundreds of thousands of photographers all around the world. It's never as easy as asking the local people to tell you where to find the perfect hidden gem. It's impossible to find a place that has not been shot before, so my second tip would just be to open your eyes. Look up and down. Look for shapes, reflections, and good light. Look for a mood-a rainy day can be great in B&W, for example. Look for movement, and either freeze it or show it with a slow shutter speed. Your creativity is what will make your photos special.

Instagram | Website

6. “Do not follow the crowd. Turn off the tourist route and stroll through the streets.”

badahos

Image by badahos. Gear: Fujifilm X-T20 camera, Fujifilm Fujinon XF 18-55mm f/2.8-4 OIS lens. Settings: Focal length 18mm; exposure 1/140 sec; f4.0; ISO 200..

What's the story behind this photo?

I took this photo in Munich. It had just rained, and people were hiding in restaurants and hotels. A big city after the rain always has a special atmosphere. I decided to walk around the small streets when suddenly, I noticed my lace was untied. I sat down to tie it, and after that, I looked up and saw the reflection of the street in a puddle. I immediately took a few photos. Then using Photoshop, I flipped and edited this photo for a more dramatic effect. You never know where a good shot awaits you.

badahos

Pictured: [1] badahos [2] badahos

Pro Tip

Always look through Google Maps before your journey. You can see the streets and find interesting places that way. Mark the spots you want to visit and things you want to see. Spend time walking around the city, and don't hurry. Stop and look around; even in the most ordinary places, you can find an interesting shot. After standing for just five minutes in one place, everything can change: the lighting, the weather, and the situation. If you find an interesting place during the day, return there at night and take another photo.

Do not follow the crowd. Turn off the tourist route and stroll through the streets. Small, non-touristic streets are always imbued with local colors, and you can find unexpected moments there. Do not carry a lot of equipment with you. It will draw attention, and you will get tired easily. Enjoy the process!

Instagram | Website

Top Image by DaLiu

The post 6 Secrets for Taking Unique Photos in Tourist Hot Spots appeared first on The Shutterstock Blog.

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rfhusnik · 5 years

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Memories: Gethsemane Underground

Written By: F. John Surells

His spirit still walks amongst the olive trees here. His body is gone, but his challenge to join him and his father lives on.

W used to hide whiskey bottles by the river. Sometimes when he and T argued about how best to live out their remaining days on Earth, he’d sneak down there and imbibe.

My thoughts herein may be confused and random, but at least they’re authentic. And today I think I’ve finally learned what Joseph Same meant when he said “I can feel the cold bitter winds of Eden blowing from out its eastern gate.”

And today, like him, I’ve also been expelled from a biblical garden. The angel of literature appeared here this day and said “In honor of the celebration of his birth, we’re going to ask that for three minutes now only those mortals who’ve never sinned would remain in the garden. Would all those who’ve, during their lifetimes been tainted by Lucifer’s devices, please exit the garden now, and return again, if such is their wish, after those three minutes have expired.” The garden then became completely emptied of humans.

And upon exiting the garden, I and the others who’d left with me heard a prophet postulating on a pedestal. His words were: “Unleash the corporate and corporeal bodies. Let the freedom bird fly uninhibited through liberty’s skyline.”

“I’ve got a feeling that this time the movers who control the chess board aren’t playing games anymore. What’s that pounding sound behind us? Whose flag waves before us? Oh, it’s a cloth of words: ‘Save the republic! It belongs in-house, not out-landerish.’”

And then it seemed that some sort of fog lifted from my recognition. And then I realized that in regard to actual deeds performed or accomplished, one’s physical location may not always be as important as one’s mental state. And I understood then that sometimes we might gladly book passage on a magic carpet ride, simply to once more see a smile on the face of someone known to possess keys to the kingdom.

X ran off the road late one evening as he was driving home. His windshield had fogged up, and he turned the steering wheel too quickly. His car needed to be pulled from the ditch with the aid of a farm vehicle, and FJ was extremely angry.

No one, I’m thinking, can reach backward or forward on the clock hands and change what has been, or alter what will be. Yet, we’ve learned that there are mind riders who, within their own comprehensions, have come to believe realities of deeds which sometimes weren’t, aren’t, and/or someday won’t be in actual correspondence with what verifiably was, is, or may still be. Nevertheless, no one can stop the mind riders. Their scopes of possibilities of fact are limited only by their own possibilities of imagination.

And on one of their transports of focus, I’ve today ridden back to a famous garden. And I’ve been allowed entrance. But then I’ve been asked to leave, apparently for a remembrance of next month’s great holiday. And so, I’m standing here on the outside now. And I’m very fearful now. And yet, though I never asked to, or had any desire to journey here, today perhaps I’ll meet the man who actually is one part of a trinity which, I believe masters all of time; and that means not only the way in which it passes, but also all that it’s ever wrought, or will yet grant.

And there’s supposedly a convention (or gathering) of “the people of the underground” occurring here today. And the “goings on” of those people at that gathering will, I guess, constitute the majority of “underground memories” I’m to disclose in this piece. And, as is often the case with matters of concern to our city and its enigmatic population, our mayor, Ralph Hawk, has once again decided to make certain aspects or memories from this rendezvous known to the public at large.

Thus, as I said, I’m standing outside the gate. And now, suddenly, in violation of what we’d normally consider a normal passage of time, night has fallen. And just inside the gate now, I can see that his friends, whom the Master brought with him to pray tonight, have fallen asleep. And I guess they’re sleeping in an innocence of unknowing, or perhaps in an innocence of an inability to know.

No, they don’t know how their friend prays in wretchedness now. And they don’t know what lies ahead for him. Nor do they know what, in a few hundred years, will befall the empire that rules them now. They can’t comprehend that foreigners from outside a domain can destroy that domain simply through infusion, without ever acting militarily.

But the Master approaches now. He sees his friends asleep, and with words that awaken them he says “Your spirit is willing, but your flesh is weak. Couldn’t you have watched with me here for one hour?”

And then seeing me standing outside the gate he said “John, I know my father has sent you here from your existence two thousand years hence. I hope you know that symbolically you and all God’s children were with my disciples and I earlier this evening as we consummated one last supper together. Go back now to pages of memories that occurred much closer to your allotted time on this planet. Relive now some glimpses of the future, or the past, depending upon your interpretation of my father’s book of eternity.”

And then suddenly the Master and his disciples were gone from my sight, as were all others whom I’d previously seen both inside and outside the gate; and I found myself riding (apparently in someone else’s stead) once again in that car on those icy roads. M loses control, slides off the pavement, enters the ditch, and hits an electrical pole. Much of the front of the car is severely dented inward, but FS tries to comfort M. And he tells another passenger from the car, whose identity is meaningless today, to walk away and summon FJ, who in anger then drives along with the unknown person to the scene of the accident. And as soon as FJ opens his car door upon reaching the sight, he’s stopped from unleashing the tirade he’d expected to pronounce. FS immediately confronts him, tells him to keep his mouth shut, and do what is necessary to extract the car from the ditch and the pole.

W was standing by a bridge which permitted the crossing of a small river. And W was angry that day. And he was drunk. And he was complaining to FS that although he had plenty of money, he couldn’t do anything with his life anymore. “I’ve got money to burn” he said. “But what good does it do me? All I can do is sit in that house all day long. T won’t let me do anything. And it looks like all she’s living for now is her expectation of her and my deaths.”

And W took a ten dollar bill from his wallet then and lit it on fire. But FS grabbed it out of W’s hand, and before it would have become worthless, put its fire out; and, with the blessing of W, gave it then to an unidentified person who also happened to be there at the time.

In preparation to attend a convention of so-called undergrounders, wouldn’t one’s greatest goal be to at least attempt to learn and understand the mindset of such people? I thought so. And in my endeavor to do so, I was very strangely aided. As I looked about at the people entering the garden that day, I actually recognized an elderly gentleman from our city! It seemed obvious to me that this chance meeting must have been orchestrated by some otherworldly force. Nonetheless, I called out to the man “Hey, I recognize you as being from my city! Why are you here, waiting to enter Gethsemane?”

“I’ve lived my entire life in our city” he said. “I was born and raised there, on the south side. And I graduated from elementary and secondary schools there; and then worked there for forty some years in the factory owned by Mr. Havess. And nowadays, of course we know what’s become of our city. While many still work for a living at the factory, there’s now a whole new bunch of people in our town – artistic types – or whatever they call themselves. And the funniest thing about it is that their leader, a guy named Hawk, actually works full time at the factory, even though he’s now been elected mayor of our city as well.”

“Oh yes, I know Ralph very well thank you” I replied. “But what’s our greatest problem as you see it?”

“To me, our greatest problem is a national rather than a local one” he said. “I’m getting so sick and tired of the constant criticism people such as myself are receiving from this nation’s liberal politicians and media. People like myself worked many years to support ourselves in this nation, and now that we have a chance to perhaps enjoy our elder years, all we hear about is that during our lifetimes we didn’t care enough about lazy people who didn’t want to work. And now we’re also being chastised because we’re trying to stop people from entering our nation illegally.”

“And some of the things you see on television, or hear in the news nowadays are just plain shameful – like what happened in those Supreme Court hearings recently. And now we have people who publically encourage Americans to commit acts of violence against government officials.” But then suddenly my discourse with this gentleman ended, and I found myself seated in a church pew, attending an evening Maundy Thursday worship service. And the officiant was speaking about the Lord’s anguish at Gethsemane, when suddenly a significant noise was heard by the congregation. FS, who had a drinking problem, had been more or less forced to attend church that evening, even though he’d been drinking during the day. (He always drank on the five weekdays, but on the two weekend days he wouldn’t touch a drop)

“My wife made me go to church that night” he’d later say. “I was alright for about the first half of the service, but then my head started to swirl, and I knew I had to get up and leave. On my way out, I fell down in the aisle between the two sections of church pews, and my fall made a large noise. But FJ then came to my aid, and helped me get out of the church. And boy was he mad at me! He said I’d embarrassed our family, which I guess I’d done. But RS shouldn’t have forced me to go to church that evening in the first place.”

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thegardensstory · 6 years

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12/9/17

I really don’t keep up much with this thing, and it may be a little pointless to start this now since I will be home in roughly 6 days, but whatever! Here goes the past 4 months of my life...

I am in my junior year at GCU (almost a senior) since I will be graduating early...woop woop! I will be walking that GCU grad stage December 15th of next year. So exciting! But junior year so far has been wild. I have to say that this semester has been one the roughest semesters of my college career. Why, you ask?...

School itself has actually been pretty great. My grades are still awesome (3.8 GPA) I am loving my classes, including my business minor, and I still know for sure that this is the plan and purpose God has for me. The rougher parts are actually aside from school.

This is my second year as an RA and man, have I had a rough semester with it. I had heard that many people start to feel burnt out by their second year, but I did not think it would be this bad. I have a huge lack of motivation with the curriculum and also the passive programming (bulletin boards, small goodie bags gifts, calendar, etc.) My ideas seem to be shot this year. Maybe because of all the other chaos that seems to be my life! I also came into this year with super high expectations from the amazing year I had prior. I had an awesome staff, a great floor of girls, and just a solid year. I loved being here and all the wonderful things that came along with it. Not to say I do not have that this year (to my staff, RD’s, or residents that may be reading this...you are all amazing). But it seems my heart is in different places this year and it has been a challenge to persevere and commit to where God has me right now. And to those whom this challenge in my life right now effects, I apologize with my whole heart.

I am also a continued intern at my church. As some of you know, I was an intern at my church this past summer. It was definitly an awesome internship, and I had the privilege to continue this PAYED internship throughout the school year under my worship pastor, Jay. My requirements for this internship are to help Jay out with the background work for worship like Ableton, as well as weekly meetings with the staff and also for our DWELL worship conference coming up...WOO! I also am the one who oversees scheduling worship leaders for our student ministries since we had a transition with that. This has been an absolute blessing, but also one of the challenges I have mentioned. I have seen and witnessed the under belly of ministry and it does throw you for a loop if you are not prepared. Luckily I was, but it is still something you need to work through in your own heart. But I have learned a ton, and I still 100% know that this is where God has me and where I belong.

Living Streams is also hosting our Dwell conference in February! This is a huge deal to me and Living Streams. We had a worship conference last year and we are really looking forward to hosting our next one in February! With this conference, I have the privilege of working with a team that has awesome connections, great innovative ideas, even greater skills, and amazing hearts for what they do. I am so excited to say that (I think) I am helping out with the worship, as well as being able to be a breakout speaker. EECK. All while big name church/worship people will be there as our featured artists. What a crazy crazy thing. God has really been faithful to open doors and continue to prove that I am on the right track.

Outside of Dwell stuff, I was able to lead our local women’s retreat in early October. I scheduled, put together, and lead a team of 5 for the weekend. It was super fun! I have learned that women are some of those most amazing people. I mean, we make up roughly 50% of the entire population, but if you ever get the chance to talk in depth about their story and where they come from, take that chance. They are powerful, mighty, and full of wisdom.

I also helped out with our winter camp that happened early November. This was up a camp called Tonto Rim up in Payson, AZ. It was nice and chilly and full of life! The kids were Jr. high and high school age, and they were so fun to lead in worship. I loved having the opportunity to travel and go somewhere to lead at a retreat. It is always a pleasure to also lead with the people that were in the band. They are some of the most amazing, talented, heartfelt people I know. I was also blessed to have my boyfriend tag along because he was in Phoenix for an interview that weekend. He was a great help with the sound and tech and just jumped right in and did whatever was asked of him. Which leads me to my last portion of this blog.

Tad Scritchfield. What a blessing he is. I have known Tad for roughly a year and a half now, and we have been dating 6 months as of yesterday. These past 6 months have been absolute bliss, but also very honestly, an absolute challenge. In a very short description, Tad is from central California, but he also currently lives in the mountains. So not only is it long distance, but it’s some seriously crappy wifi connection calling over Facetime audio. It’s extremely frustrating at times.

Anyways, our whole relationship has basically been him trying to move to Phoenix. Okay...that’s not the WHOLE relationship, as there is so much depth to what we have that I don’t need to go into, but it has been the biggest topic of prayer on our list of things we pray for. We had no idea the challenge and hardship we would face in this process. From over 100 applications, multiple trips to Phoenix for interviews, hearing roughly 4 “no’s”, many hard conversations and heartbreak...and we finally made it. We knew that the job God had for him would be awesome, it was just so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel of something we prayed SO hard for. If there was one thing that we learned from this experience, is that sometimes God protects you from even GOOD things to give you the BEST thing. There were many times we thought a certain job would be perfect, and then it would fall through.

But the biggest thing that stood out to me in that whole journey was a man who wanted to fight for me. What a picture of the love of Jesus. Of course, Tad is not perfect and neither is our relationship, but without getting too gross and mushy, this is a man that is truly pursuing me. He is willing to give up everything; his comfort, his childhood home, his friends, etc. to come and create something new and fun with me. I have never met a man who would do what he is doing for me. I am One. Lucky. Gal. Not to mention those trips to Phoenix for him were 9 hour drives one way, coming to stay in the freshman dorms, searching for the business where the interview was held, shaking off the long drive to look and feel presentable, trying to have quality time with me while I continued living my life out here in Phoenix, along with the normal shuffle of typical relationship talk and keeping close. These included long nights, rough talks, many tears (mostly on my end) and constant turning of our heads to the Lord. WHEW. a Whirlwind. But in the end, I wouldn't trade any portion of this process for anything. Tad and I are so close, and we are so excited to grow even closer in the SAME STATE! There is so much yet to learn, but we are learning now to be present, to just enjoy each other, not rush the things yet to come, and lavish in the blessings God is pouring over us. Thank you Jesus.

Even through all of the daily chaos and craziness of my life, there is something that is obvious and constant, is my calling. I have had many doubts in my years here at GCU and all the goodness that comes along with that, but one thing that has not changed is the unwavering gifting and will that God has placed on my life. It’s almost as if it gets clearer and clearer every step of my journey. Which I think is how it should be. As we draw closer to Him through our studies, quiet times, and even our struggles, he shows us more of who we are in him, and makes our path that much clearer. I hope and pray that whatever journey you are on in your life, that you continue to trust in him. Fight for that job you want, press on in that friendship that is suffering, pray for that impossible thing you want in your life. You never know the amazing, beautiful, crazy things God can do. And to those who feel like there is no excitement or adventure, ask Him for it. Ask God to show you that scary thing. Ask him to push you over the edge to the point where the only place you can be is naked and vulnerable in the presence of God. Get to the point when all you can hold onto is the Word. Do the thing that is most terrifying, and watch God bless you because of your obedience. What is that thing? Try it.

Love you Michiganders,

Eden

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endersshadowsnr · 6 years

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Toulouse Day 2

As it was Sunday I spent the day in churches... No, sadly not, living communities, but ancient buildings which now have a variety of uses. I did check for English speaking congregations, which threw up this web site:

The phrase 'the church in the Midi-Pyrénées and Aude' is interesting; good to know that some Anglicans still believe they are the only true church...

It was the first Sunday of the month, so the museums I wanted to go to were free to enter. My first target was the Convent of the Augustinians (Convent does not mean nuns!) set in a remarkable survival of some of the pre-Revolutionary buildings, including the TWO complete cloisters as well as the church and some other building.

The garden in the larget cloister has been laid out with Medieval type planting;

The presence of an inattentive child appears not to be a purely modern trend:

This fully painted pieta from the 16th century is a further reminder that white statues were not the artist’s attention a lot more of the time than we realise

meanwhile deck chairs reside on one side

The community dates back to the 12th century, moving into the city in the 14th. It was part of the same order as Luther was a member of: Augustinian Hermits, rather than Canons. From a peak of some 200 members, it declined steadily, helped along by the destruction of the steeple of the church by lightning in the 16th century, and by the Revolution ‘only a few’ remained.

Expropriated by the revolutionaries, it was set aside as museum in 1795, just after the establishment of the Louvre. It hosts a lot of statues from Roman and Gothic times, as well as a large gallery of 19th century paintings. An unusual feature was this bust of Mary in two different stones

The persistence of the Alpha and Omega even in the West is interesting

The actual church still has an organ

As well as a painted apse.

The area of the high altar was closed off, so I couldn’t see what was still there.

In the area dedicated to showing carvings, I was very impressed by the detail of this late Romanesque - 12th century? - anonymous sculptor

Whilst this image of the church militant - a cardinal of the 19th century - is one from horror comics these days

I then moved on to the Convent of the Jacobins.Actual website

To my surprise this proved to be the historic mother house of the Dominican Order, who are known in France as Jacobins. Despite being deconsecrated, it hosts the relics of St Thomas Aquinas,

Although the historic conventual buildings were largely destroyed, a new cloister has been built with access to the chapel of St Antoninus of Pamiers, a Roman era martyr, which is decorated with paintings inspired by Revelation,

as well as to the refectory which hosts modern works of art. For my visit there was, in a darkened room, a series of wooden boxes with full sized pictures of people on the bottom stacked in various places around the room, along with some tents from which voices could be heard talking. You were given a head torch to be able to navigate. Not impressed!

The visit was enhanced by a real life Dominican - to judge from his habit - visiting with friends.

A return trip to the museum at the Basilica was remarkable for the probably Frankish metalwork

The airbrushing of the Visigoths from history is an interesting feature of the area, perhaps because they have no obvious successors: after centuries of rule as the successors to the Romans, they were squashed between the Muslims in the South and the Franks of the Holy Roman Empire to the north, they tend to get forgotten, as reflected in their getting no obvious credit for the material in this display. As such they illuminate the fate of the nations mentioned in the bible who have disappeared today: Moab, Edom, Ammon and the Philistines springing to mind.

There are also some pre Roman torcs

A Roman mosaic with Greek lettering was interesting

Returning from here to my hotel left me wandering past a church on the way back to the hotel. This proved to be the historic church of the Toulouse Charterhouse, suppressed by the French Revolution.

Much of the decoration is still in place, including the high altar of the church being between the monastic choir and the nave,

allowing the laity access to the Carthusian liturgy without breaching their enclosure. These days there is open access to all parts of the church. The choir side is decorated with paintings of the life of St Bruno,

As a long time fan of the Carthusians: an order that quotes a prophecy to justify their claim to have the best plainsong rather than the view of a musicologist has my vote, this is the closest I've been to them.

On a lighter note: there is a Lidl around the corner from the hotel. This was notable for the remarkably much cheaper prices for basics: 20c for 2 litres of water is impressive, and it also allowed me to resume my cola addiction at a reasonable price. However it was interesting to note these:

The French are nationalistic about their milk

Lidl actually dared to sell South African wine in its store. Slightly cheaper than the local plonk, and the only presence - at least rapidly visible - in wine shelves otherwise full of French produce.

On the whole I've avoided wine on the trip, mainly because I'm not that interested, but also because I'm not sure drinking alcohol on my own is a good idea. I'm conscious that going to Bordeaux and ignoring this element of their culture is unreasonable, but there was no easy answer...

#Toulouse #Dominicans #Thomas Aquinas #Carthusians #Charterhouse of Toulouse #Convent of the Jacobins #Visigoths #The Musée des Augustins #Lidl

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