Well folks, after carting that cardboard creation across Northern Europe, I’m beat.

Thankfully it’s Friday and I think, for the first time in I don’t know how many weekends I am going to put my hand up and ‘just say no’. I am going to strive for a work-free weekend. I know, I know, there will be repercussions come Monday. But, I need the break. And also, I’m thinking “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” or in this case, the Northern Europeans – the Amsterdammers (and Parisians)(not to mention Italians) seem to just disappear for weeks on end in August – they shut up their shops, they leave their work, they leave all their responsibilities and just declare vacation. It’s something I find rather peculiar since these are two international cities but you know, whatever…

I will not be following suit and declaring vacation unfortunately as I have alot on and next week will be a killer, BUT, I think a work-free weekend is in order. What do you think?

Shall I don my summer dresses? Get out my straw hat? Put paper umbrellas in my ice tea and put my feet up?

I will still have to clean, sort, and tidy though as I have completely neglected my household duties over the last few weeks and the boat is unsightly, and barely livable.

Next week I want to tell you what I got up to in Paris each day I was there. I took lots of photos… some I will share here, some I will save for an upcoming project. I also bought something that I have been dying to show you, it’s been so inspiring for me.

I wonder what you will be doing this weekend? Any plans? Whatever you get up to mes chers amis, have a beautiful weekend.

xx

… ta-dah!!!

A special window dressing at the Parisian English bookshop, WHSmith! The window will be up for the whole month of August, in celebration of my book Paris: Made By Hand…

The bookstore is on the corner of the very famous rue de rivoli and rue cambon – right across the road from the gorgeous jardin des tuileries and a short stroll to le louvre.

Do you like it? Oh, oh, I do hope so. I wanted it to be something really special. It was alot of work, alot of fun, and I was able to document parts of the ‘making of’ for you as I know how much you love to see the behind-the-scenes. I am going to show and tell all in the next post. For now, here is my window creation! If you are in Paris, please do stop by to check it out in person…

There is always romance in the air in Paris, but in Spring, romance and love seems to envelope the whole city more than ever. I adore Paris in the Spring time – I moved to Paris in the Spring, I fell in love in the Spring, and it seems I keep coming back in the Spring. Perhaps I’m addicted to the romance…

So for this final soundscape for the series, its all about Spring love in Paris – a collection of photos taken while wandering the streets of the city in Spring, along with a soundscape captured while strolling at dusk with French Boy through St Germain the other Saturday night, stopping in at Taschen (which was still open at 10pm!), and then wandering around the corner, hand in hand, to find an old dude singing I can’t believe you’re in love with me, dressed in berret and suspenders. so. ro. man. tic.

The sound quality of this one is very poor unfortunately, but I rather like the 1920’s feel of it, and I hope you will still enjoy it. So, please take it away, monsieur…

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Thanks for lending me your ears for my series 4 soundscape. Click here to be whisked back to series 1 (in Amsterdam), series 2 (in Paris), series 3 (in Sydney).

You may all be well aware by now that as much as I love music (and taking photos, food, nature, art, all things handmade…), I love books. And it just so happens that on one of my favourite wanders in paris: made by hand (that being wander 6) there is one of my favourite bookstores in the world. It is a rather particular bookstore. To be precise, it sells comics…

The French love comics, and it didn’t take me long to understand why – comic books these days are bound pages of incredible hand drawn illustrations by both well-known and lesser-known artists. These books are like short films on paper, storyboards. And for me, they have been the most fabulous way to learn the French language. The first French comic I read with French Boy’s help was Les Schtroumpfs, or as I’ve known them best, The Smurfs. Just to be able to pronounce ‘schtroumpf’ is not so easy (its something like schhhhhhtrrrroooompf), and you may recall the stories are filled with such sentences as “the smurfs smurfed this and they smurfed that, and everything is smurfalicious”. It’s bloody hard to say this in French. I persevered.

Today I am rather proud to announce that I can now read such books on my own. And my very first illustrative book which I’ve read on my own in French, I bought at philippe’s during my recent weekend in paris. It is called mon frère nocturne by joanna hellgren, and it is one of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever read…

mon frère nocturne is a little story about a boy who is about to turn ten. and that’s all I will say. Its a very moving story that resonated deeply with me. It also features a piano. Here are a couple of pages from the book which I found on the publisher’s website …

I highly recommend you check out more of Joanna’s work on her extensive online portfolio. And of course, while on wander 6, please go and check out philippe’s fabulous bookstore – it’s just opposite galerie vegetale.

Visiting Paris is a festival for the senses. For French Boy and I, its notably our taste buds that party like its 1999. The moments prior to this particular trip, we spent the train ride deciding where we would eat for every single meal. Since we only had 2 nights there, that being 6 meals – we realised we had to cull our list of favourites down substantially.

But to my surprise, it wasn’t the food and wine that stole my heart this time.

It was music.

No matter where we wandered, no matter what time of day or night, there was incredible open-air music coming from all sorts of places – from the habitual accordian player on metro line 12, to a saxophonist whose somber, slow tunes at midnight were reverberating through the thick stone walls of the Richelieu hallway of le louvre. Our weekend was marked by spontaneous musical intervals and for me, it was very special, being the week after my musical friend had passed away. I imagined he was there, in the air somewhere, waving a magical mystical conductor’s baton everywhere we went…

However, there was one particular interlude that moved me to tears. We were wandering around the palais royal and as we turned the corner there, out of nowhere, was a 12-piece string ensemble in full swing, performing la petite musique de nuit (4th mvt) , by Mozart – a song I have adored since I was a child. It whisked me right into the moment and I realised at that point that my mind had been everywhere else – thinking about loss, mortality, my family, past events, future projects… but then, for the first time in such a long time, I was right here, in the present, in the middle of Paris, captured in the moment by this music.

With wide eyes and whole heart, I listened, watched, and felt. My senses were enchanted.

I watched as a lady in the crowd waved her arm in the air and gently dropped it with each fall of each note. I watched the conductor – who was also playing a violin – as he came to the woman and played his instrument, just for her. The space between them was filled with admiration, love, passion, understanding and pure pleasure.

I was present.

The music filled my whole body and my heart heaved. As I took my next breath tears welled in my eyes. I watched this lady enjoy the performance without inhibition and I understood: this is life, and I am living it.

Please press the play button below…

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This one’s for you, Mum.