THERE IS A SEASON turn turn

Café de la Paix Warm and Cozy

Bûcherie de la Paix Cold and friendly

There was a time when I braved the bitter cold and painted outside in mid-winter without even thinking about it. And there were days in March when the wind blew so fiercely, my easel fell

a dozen times or more. I trudged on like the mailmen of yesteryear.

Now, I sit happily painting my dream seen water-colors as if that alone is why I was put on this

Earth.

LE BEAUJOLAIS NOUVEAU EST ARRI...STOP THE MUSIC

"A little Banana..."

"NON."

Stop the music! Wait a second!

I just heard that the Beaujolais Nouveau is not ready.

The third Thursday in November is the offciel date to celebrate since I can remember. When Les Halles was still a hole in the ground and I was doing odd jobs at Mother Earth's on the rue des Lombards,( not the first American restaurant in Paris, but the grooviest),

The wine distributor for Mother's, let me sample it the day before the official designated date.

I still remember his blue overalls, white hair, and red face as he as he unveiled the bottle from

under his jacket - nearly a capital crime.

The festival has since grown to a world wide sensation. some restaurants in New York had it delivered via the Concord - so to be the first.

This year, a vineyard announced that because June was quite cold, the harvest was late. They advised their customers to wait until it's really ready.

What next?

Parties are scheduled in all the cafés in Montmartre just the same and the folk will drink the recently harvested wine

green as it is.

FROM THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

I spent three weeks in the country this fall in a region appropriately called Le Centre.

Geographically, the center of France. Otherwise, in the middle of no where. Not a one horse town. Many horses grazing on the verdure - nice horses. Nice cows also.

I hope they (the cows) remember me as I remember them - coming up to the fence staring, chewing, emontionless as adolescent boys on a street corner.

There was a wooded area nearby frequented by hunters of wild boar and deer during their season. We were only there for the wild mushroom chase.

There was also a café in this hamlet and a beureau de poste open for a couple hours in the morning, and an eleventh century church which had a service every Thursday.

After three week of detoxing from internet, wine, and friends I was anxious to return home only to find all trains canceled with the rail strike. Real life nightmare and city stress retuned as I eventually did to Montmartre and my love for making images on paper and surfing on the net.

ISA

She danced in a dream last night.