Jérome Iber, guitarist met at Auxerre

Sometimes, by hazard, we happen to meet wonderfully sympathetic people really by chance. This gifted musician was playing and working his way from town to town. Hopefully our paths will cross again one day! Jérome was waiting for his friend who had been delayed by unforeseen circumstances and later on in the day we saw a young man with a guitar case...guess who it must have been?

Quelquefois, par un heureux hasard, il nous arrive de faire des rencontres merveilleusement sympathiques. Ce musicien doué joue de ville en ville. Avec un peu de chance, nos chemins se recroiseront donc un jour ! Jérôme attendait là un ami en retard et, un peu plus tard, un peu plus loin, nous avons croisé un jeune homme marchant une guitare à la main... Devinez qui ce devait être ?

Poem by Arash

Forgery

when the artist sits down to create
his thoughts hover six feet above the ground

his restless mind attempts to (re)capture
the malleable experiences of the day
in beautiful and enduring shapes and forms

he longs for meters of verse that spark and glow
like hot branding iron smoldering in the dark.

he shall brandish his posthumous mark
on the pale blank sheets
and the fire that burns eternally
is the anguish uniquely felt

the artist knows no repose
for his mind itches like a flea-infested dog
and no remedy can be found
unless this heavenly itch
pours forth
in marvelous words
written in fleeting ink.

ARASH FARZANEH
Copyright

Rani's Note: I was deeply honoured to feature this poem of the artist and artisan expressed so beautifully by Arash, who kindly consented to let me feature it in this blog. I'm looking forward to some more of his contributions if he is willing.

http://arashworld.blogspot.com/

speckled cats

Don't these cats look as though drops of liquid sunshine have been splashed upon them?

Denis Canut

The gallery of Denis Canut

The Silent Lane

My eyes on that door the silent lane beckons
My fingers scrape that door
Nobody opens it any more

My eyes brimming the silent lane beckons
Memories flow; how many have walked these old streets
And how many do not any more?

From the inner world of my own inner world
Comes the answers of despair
Comes the images of you there

Sunlight and silence, people pass me by
In the cavern of the past some of this will remain
The present is now free from pain.

Copyright 2008

The Night, Glorious, Unbending

The night, glorious, unbending,
Takes and gives nothing away
The night, silent, refuses the alms offered by day

Day, loquacious, has questions and answers
But the night doesn't even ponder
Looks far ahead, yonder
Night silently turns away

Day is curious about these silences
That stretch into infinity: silences that stretch
Until the pale dawn arises
Silences that from ages past and ages to come
Are the very inscrutable embodiment
Of what the night has become.

Copyright 2008

Reliure à Orléans

Il peut nous arriver d'avoir de temps à autre besoin de faire relier nos livres pour leur insuffler une seconde vie, ou pour les embellir. M.François Ferrière est l'une de ces personnes à qui confier un livre est toujours un plaisir, car l'on sait qu'il l'embellira avec soin. Il est patient et a du savoir faire.

Son atelier est situé dans l'un de ces lieux de rêve si abondants en France, à quelques pas de la Cathédrale Sainte-Croix d'Orléans. En fait, il suffit de sortir de son échoppe pour bénéficier d'une vue magnifique sur l'édifice. De plus, sa devanture fait face à un autre édifice remarquable, la Salle des Thèses de l'Univertité, construite en 1411, c'et à dire il ya près de 600 ans.

Mais, pour en revenir à la reliure, M.Ferrière peut être joint au:

9, Rue Pothier

45000 Orléans

Tel./Fax 02 38 62 75 47
http://www.reliure-ferriere.fr/

Sur ce site, des centaines de modèles sont proposés.

Il va sans dire qu'Orléans est une ville de dimension historique, mais nous reparlerons dans un autre article.

Meeting with Mr Ferrière, bookbinder at Orléans

It happens from time to time that we need to get our books bound to give them a second life or to embellish them. Mr François Ferrière is one of those persons it is always a pleasure to give books to, knowing that they will be embellished with care. He is patient and knowledgeable.
His workshop is in one of those dream locations that France abounds in, a few steps from the Cathédrale Sainte Croix of Orléans. In fact, just stepping out of the shop gives you a wonderful view of that magnificant edifice. Moreover, right in front of the workshop on the other side of the street is another remarkable edifice, the Salle des Thèses, built in 1411 (the Thesis Hall) of the University of Orléans, almost 600 years.
But coming back to bookbinding, Mr Ferrière can be located at:

9, Rue Pothier
45000 Orléans
Tel./Fax 02 38 62 75 47

www.reliure-ferriere.fr

The site has hundreds of designs and formats.

Needless to say Orléans is a city of historical dimensions but will deal with that in another post.

Smoke, Mist and Nebulous Things

Tell me then your perceptions of the past

Tell me why hard facts are hard today

Facts tomorrow, then gone away

Do facts, then, rarely last?

Watching the march of time, the artefacts

The ruins they continue to dig up day by day

What remains of those wonderful beings

Who peopled our fables and myths

Smoke, mist and other nebulous things

Spirited them away

Tiptoe in history’s corridors

Crowns, coins and chariots

People, peasants, and simple folk

Just spirited clean away

Where do they lie now?

Unknowns jostling in history’s corridors.

Queens, courtesans, mothers of kings

Toys and things, necklaces and dreams

Smoke, mist and other nebulous things

Spirited them away

Tiptoe in history’s corridors

The modified history of the world

Domination, nomination, abomination

Smoke and mist and nebulous things

Have spirited everyone away

copyright 2008

Shah Jahan's Dagger

This, the Emperor's personal dagger
A wonder in itself,
Made for him in his 39th year
Sold for gold
But worth much much more
This khanjar has travelled far
From the Yamuna and all that it holds
The splendor of that tomb
A poem in stone
Where the Emperor's was added
Almost like an afterthought.

Prince Khurram, if you have any tears left,
Weep.


This historical gold-encrusted dagger was sold for 1.7 million pounds on the 10th April,2008. It had already left India decades back. Shah Jahan was the Mughal Emperor who built the Taj Mahal in 1632 as a tomb for his beloved wife, Mumtaz Mahal.

Copyright 2008

CLOSING YEARS

In these closing years of your life

Each time I see your white hair that was once so black

Your body bent that once walked so straight

I remember you throwing me up in your arms

And waiting for you impatiently at the gate

Let time quietly glide away

And grace touch every moment that is left

Never to know distress, worry, stress

And when you close your eyes to rest one day

It might be to the sound of familiar footsteps I guess

That you can follow without any fear in your heart;

And to the sound of soft beloved voices,

Maybe that is the way loved ones depart.

copyright 2007