<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:01:37.808-08:00</updated><category term='Paris'/><title type='text'>Adrienne Stein</title><subtitle type='html'>New Paintings &amp;amp; Inspiration</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-5675436019512475329</id><published>2011-06-30T19:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T19:44:54.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>El Greco's Light</title><content type='html'>Haunting and strange elongated figures writhe against backdrops of ominous clouds. Saints, apostles and Spanish noblemen inhabit the canvases of El Greco. Their pale flesh gives the impression of another world - a moon-lit realm where Heaven and Earth touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/4994.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_4994.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/4995.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_4995.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Domenico Theotokopolous, better known as "El Greco" or "The Greek" spent most of his career in the little town of Toledo in Castille, Spain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/4996.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_4996.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Toledo is close to Madrid, Nicole and I took a day trip to Toledo to see the El Greco House/Museum. Many of his important religious and civic works are here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/4997.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_4997.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/4998.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_4998.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/4999.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_4999.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El Greco has become one of my favorite artists - fusing together the Byzantine iconography that he learned in his native Crete, and Venetian painting, which influenced him during his years in Italy.  He is a truly spiritual painter, re-creating space and reality in a way that is sublime yet believable.&lt;br /&gt;One can clearly see the intensity of Byzantine icons in the faces that he paints, and the saturated color and sensuality of the Venetian masters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/5000.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_5000.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although he faded into obscurity during his lifetime, he was rediscovered and celebrated by the Romanticists and other movements of the 19th century. El Greco was innovative beyond his time, and he planted a seed that would bear fruit centuries after his death - I myself am among the fruits of his influence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/30/5001.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/30/s_5001.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Toledo,%20Spain&amp;z=10'&gt;Toledo, Spain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-5675436019512475329?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/5675436019512475329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/el-greco-light.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5675436019512475329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5675436019512475329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/el-greco-light.html' title='El Greco&amp;#39;s Light'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-7167932966943966300</id><published>2011-06-28T06:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T06:56:29.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madrid and its Most Luminous Painter</title><content type='html'>This week I had the joy of visiting the home and studio/museum of Joaquin Sorolla in Madrid. His home complete with its lush gardens was his own private and isolated world of inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1145.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1145.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1147.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1147.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have long admired the exuberant light-filled paintings of this 19th c. painter, and it was meaningful to see them in person amidst their original context of Spain, as I fully appreciate how Sorolla captures the soul of Spain in all of it's boldness, color, pride and grit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1149.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1149.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1150.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1150.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weathered Andalusian peasants and fishermen stare out from his canvases as well as high society figures and his own wife and children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1152.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1152.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1154.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1154.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1156.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1156.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1158.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1158.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each painting is a symphony of color harmonies, and executed with confident bravura brushwork that exemplifies his technical mastery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1159.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1159.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He perceives so keenly the distinct hour of the day that he depicts - celebrating the &lt;br /&gt;specific light quality and array of colors that accompany it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1160.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1160.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1162.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1162.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly a painter of the stolen moment, Sorolla's love for life and sensitivity to his surroundings animates each of his compositions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1163.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1163.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/28/1164.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/28/s_1164.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Madrid,%20Spain&amp;z=10'&gt;Madrid, Spain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-7167932966943966300?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/7167932966943966300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/madrid-and-its-most-luminous-painter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/7167932966943966300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/7167932966943966300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/madrid-and-its-most-luminous-painter.html' title='Madrid and its Most Luminous Painter'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-6746647970855339159</id><published>2011-06-26T00:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T00:22:57.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom and Spain</title><content type='html'>Mom's visit in Paris: a week full of great art and delicious conversation, food, and laughter. In usual fashion, she adds color and life to every experience - an amazing privilege to share my last week in Paris with her.  Our daily escapades included everything from photographing old cemeteries to flea market shopping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/49.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_49.jpg' border='0' width='205' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/50.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_50.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We mused over our favorite paintings in museums, people-watched in cafes, explored hidden corners of the city, and stayed up 'til the wee hours of each morning swapping stories and sharing our artistic endeavors, hopes and fears.  On Monday she boarded a plane back to the US while I boarded a plane to Spain. We parted ways filled with lifelong memories. A true friend, she sharpened each experience, and every event deepened our bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/51.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_51.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I arrived in Madrid with my traveling companion Nicole, whom I met in Paris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/52.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_52.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far we have visited Barcelona and Granada - two distinctly different but equally beautiful cities.  Barcelona is an exotic beauty, but much more 'gritty' than Paris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/53.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_53.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have never seen so many intensely colored and dreamlike gardens and parks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/54.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_54.jpg' border='0' width='207' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/55.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_55.jpg' border='0' width='211' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/56.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_56.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='211' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The architecture was fitting, as Barcelona is home to all of the major works Antonio Gaudi - one of the world's most outlandish and visionary architects. Nicole and I took a guided "Gaudi bike tour" to see the city and to gain deeper insights into Gaudi's works. Organic curvilinear forms reminiscent of coral and sea tides sweep across his structures, along with exuberantly colored tile mosaics that fit the setting of Barcelona's Mediterranean coastline and tropical flora. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/57.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_57.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/58.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_58.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='207' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/59.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_59.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='207' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/60.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_60.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='209' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/61.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_61.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own work, I hope to emulate the bold and playful rhythms that characterize Gaudi's work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a night train to Granada - home of La Alhambra - a fortress holding the glorious remains of Moorish reign in Spain; a rare and precious historical era of peace between Muslim, Christian, and Jewish communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/62.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_62.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The palaces of the Nasrid Sultans and the accompanying gardens and fountains have inspired poets, authors, and artists for centuries. I couldn't help but be transported to another place and time amidst the Arabesque botanical forms and Quranic poetry carved onto the pure white marble surfaces alongside intricate tile mosaics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/63.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_63.jpg' border='0' width='211' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/64.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_64.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/65.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_65.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/68.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_68.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/70.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_70.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These palaces are, as intended, an earthly representation of the Heavenly hereafter that awaited the faithful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an added bonus, we unknowingly arrived in Granada on the Catholic feast day of Corpus Christi- and just in time for the procession. It was an incredible spectacle to see Andalucian people in all their pride as they enact this ritual parade with its flourish, color and symbolism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/72.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_72.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/26/73.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/26/s_73.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Madrid,%20Spain&amp;z=10'&gt;Madrid, Spain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-6746647970855339159?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/6746647970855339159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/mom-and-spain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6746647970855339159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6746647970855339159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/mom-and-spain.html' title='Mom and Spain'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-3264916155920455074</id><published>2011-06-11T05:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T05:55:13.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June in Paris and a Surprise Visitor</title><content type='html'>Paris always leaves me wanting more, and it seems that the more time I spend here, the more I want to discover and unlock its secrets. In the beginning I naively thought two months would be enough... My return flight to the US was May 31st, but here I sit in my new little Bohemian apartment in Montmartre for the month of June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1036.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1036.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my Latin Quarter apartment was already rented out for June, I had to uproot and find a new place for this month. Thanks to Craigslist, I found this little studio - subleased by an artist/travel photojournalist. As soon as I saw the paint on the floors, I was sold! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1040.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1040.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is on the ground floor that opens onto a beautiful little courtyard. The light is superb. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1041.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1041.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1042.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1042.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1044.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1044.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As happy as I have been here, it depressed me to move out of my old apartment and neighborhood. Paris is so communal - one becomes quickly attached to the locals one encounters daily. I already miss the girls who worked at the boulangerie at the end of my street, and the jovial guys who own the Moroccan restaurant on my block who stood outside smoking and complimenting my outfit every day. It's the little things, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I couldn't help but feel a bit isolated and, well... blue.  But all that is soon to change - as my mom arrives for an 8-day visit tomorrow morning! Thanks to a generous and spontaneous gift from my very thoughtful dad, she has a plane ticket to Paris for a week of unforgettable memories soon to be made!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In painting news, I have started this somber little painting (work in progress)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1045.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1045.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dear friend posed for it. This simple, austere and contemplative composition is directly inspired by one of my all-time favorite paintings in the Louvre, Hippolyte Flandrin's "young male nude seated" (below).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/11/1046.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/11/s_1046.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had the pleasure of spending quality time in front of this lovely treasure in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a week - Looking back with gratitude, looking ahead with eager expectancy....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-3264916155920455074?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/3264916155920455074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-in-paris-and-surprise-visitor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/3264916155920455074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/3264916155920455074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-in-paris-and-surprise-visitor.html' title='June in Paris and a Surprise Visitor'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-1530748566739246345</id><published>2011-06-06T05:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T05:07:07.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Medieval Library in Glass</title><content type='html'>On the last day of Betsy and Linda's stay in Paris, we took a train to Chartres to see the Our Lady of Chartres Cathedral, said to be one of the most magnificent Gothic cathedrals in Europe, renowned for it's hundreds of stained glass windows.  It was very moving to stand in this place that has survived so much assault and weathered the ravages of time. (my little Chartres homage below)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/06/922.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/06/s_922.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our brilliant and entertaining British gentleman tour guide is a scholar and author on Gothic cathedrals. He likened the windows of Chartes to books in a public library; They are full of  history, symbols, theology, stories from the Bible, and biographies of the saints; But instead of text, they are encoded in beautiful jewel-toned stained glass. Like eager children, we craned our necks gazing up at the windows as he unlocked these stories for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/06/923.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/06/s_923.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/06/924.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/06/s_924.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/06/925.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/06/s_925.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Cathedral has it's own remarkable story of surviving adversity. After a fire destroyed much of it in the 1100's, it was attacked and defaced again in the 1600's at the hand of anti-religious during the French revolution. Finally in 1939, when France went to war against Germany, all of the windows were removed and shipped to a hiding place in the south of France to escape air raids.  She stands triumphant today - offering her stories and wisdom to all who enter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/06/926.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/06/s_926.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='207' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Chartres,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Chartres, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-1530748566739246345?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/1530748566739246345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/medieval-library-in-glass.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/1530748566739246345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/1530748566739246345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/medieval-library-in-glass.html' title='A Medieval Library in Glass'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-5169005000891029760</id><published>2011-06-04T02:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T02:51:56.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Underground City of Bones</title><content type='html'>Today I made a long-awaited visit to the catacombs of Paris.  The suspense mounted as I descended an eternal expanse of spiral staircase down into a dark and damp maze of artfully stacked bones. This chilling underground site is a resting place for about 6 million departed Parisians - a place that makes one painfully aware of one's own mortality. Indeed, we will be counted among these bones sooner than we'd like to imagine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/04/382.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/04/s_382.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these remains were transposed to this underground stone quarry in the late 1700's - They were removed from mass graves in the city because of sanitation issues. Altars were erected in the catacombs so that Mass could be carried out and the new burial site could be consecrated by the priests of Paris. I love to imagine the priests chanting in Latin by lamplight as wagonloads of bones were unloaded and laid to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/04/383.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/04/s_383.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/04/385.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/04/s_385.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/04/386.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/04/s_386.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the exit, just before the first glimpse of daylight, this inscription is etched on a big stone for all to see: (translation from the French)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen dry bones&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the voice of the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Almighty God of our ancestors&lt;br /&gt;Who with a breath created all beings&lt;br /&gt;Will join your separated limbs&lt;br /&gt;You will resume new bodies&lt;br /&gt;The skin will form on them!&lt;br /&gt;Dry bones, you will live again."&lt;br /&gt;- LeFranc de Pompignan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-5169005000891029760?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/5169005000891029760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/underground-city-of-bones.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5169005000891029760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5169005000891029760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/06/underground-city-of-bones.html' title='An Underground City of Bones'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-3110342239195332719</id><published>2011-05-31T07:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T07:39:23.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Strange City in Shimmering Color</title><content type='html'>This week: the visit of my very talented photographer/artist friend &lt;a target="_blank" href="www.lefever.com"&gt;Jeff Lefever&lt;/a&gt; in Paris and our side trip adventure to Prague. Jeff is the founder of the &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://foundationforthebiblicalarts.org/"&gt;Foundation for the Biblical Arts&lt;/a&gt; and conducts ongoing photo-documentation of Sacred Spaces in Europe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prague is a world unto itself. We saw a documentary that described it as "a strange city in shimmering color". This is an apt description, as I was immediately struck by the fairy tale Bavarian architecture and vibrant colors in this city that is situated on a wide, calm river. ("Sunset Prague" study)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1182.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1182.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Buttery yellows, coral pinks, and oceanic turquoise animate the buildings. In contrast - Dark, pointy Gothic spires slice into the skyline. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1183.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1183.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1184.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1184.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baroque sculptures and dramatic monuments line the famous Charles Bridge and the public squares of the city. As a painter who focuses on the expressive power of the human form in art, Prague is a treasure trove of inspiration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1185.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1185.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1186.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1186.jpg' border='0' width='209' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1187.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1187.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff and I had the opportunity to visit the Alphonse Mucha Museum - an entire museum dedicated to the artist who is the face of Art Nouveau, the decorative arts movement of 19th century Europe.  It was humbling to see the scope and magnitude of the prolific artistic legacy Mucha left us.  His skillful draftsmanship shows in the gorgeous serpentining linework and arabesque floral patterns adorning lyrical drapery-clad women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1188.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1188.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1189.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1189.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1190.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1190.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1191.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1191.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another high point (literally and figuratively) was The Cathedral of St. Vitus is a hike up to one of the highest points overlooking the city. This Cathedral has by far the most beautiful and vibrantly colorful stained glass windows I've ever seen in all my travels, one of which Alphonse Mucha designed. Stories from the Scriptures as well as the lives of the Saints and Slavic history are illustrated in vibrant, colorful glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1192.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1192.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1193.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1193.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1194.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1194.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1196.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1196.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the opportunity to tour the Jewish quarter of Prague, which impacted me deeply. The Czech Republic has had a rich Jewish history since the Middle Ages and at various times throughout history has peacefully fostered a flourishing Jewish community. (the exuberantly colored Jerusalem Synagogue below)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1197.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1197.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The oldest surviving European Synagogue  is here, as well as a touching Hebrew cemetery, crowded with centuries-old tombstones and wildflowers springing up in purple and yellow, bringing a playful levity and remembrance of life in this heavy resting place of the dead. One of the synagogues is now a tragic memorial for some 80,000 Czech Jews who were deported during the Holocaust, and never returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1198.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1198.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='209' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also moved by the Convent of St. Agnes, a medieval convent which has been transformed into a museum for Medieval art. It's thick stone walls are covered with gilded jewel-toned paintings, altarpieces, and intricate wooden sculptures of the Mystical life and Legacy of Christ that speak just as powerfully to us today as they did to their faithful but illiterate audience 700 years ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1199.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1199.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1200.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1200.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prague lends itself well to leisure. Tourists and locals congregate by the river to relax, watch the sunset, listen to live music, and of course, drink beer. Prague is known for it's legendary beers and, more notably - for Absinthe. Jeff and I satisfied our curiosity by buying the most potent flask of pure Absinthe we could find in stores and renting a rowboat to venture out on the river and sample our new purchase. Hilarity ensued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1201.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1201.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1202.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1202.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1203.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1203.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1204.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1204.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1205.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1205.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1206.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1206.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1207.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1207.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1208.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1208.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As is customary with our friendship, Jeff and I spawned earnest conversation, truthful introspection, and hearty laughter in everything from live blues to Medieval art and Absinthe. Thank you, dear friend - It was priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1209.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1209.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/31/1210.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/31/s_1210.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Prague,%20Czech%20Republic&amp;z=10'&gt;Prague, Czech Republic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-3110342239195332719?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/3110342239195332719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/strange-city-in-shimmering-color.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/3110342239195332719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/3110342239195332719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/strange-city-in-shimmering-color.html' title='A Strange City in Shimmering Color'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-4160919362390824977</id><published>2011-05-15T00:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T00:12:50.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A 'Ladies Lark' to the Lush Vineyards of Bordeaux</title><content type='html'>This week I had the joy of hosting my 2 friends Linda and Betsy in Paris.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/27.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_27.jpg' border='0' width='209' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a side trip to visit Linda's friends who own Chateau des Tourtes, a sprawling and gorgeous vineyard estate and winery situated in the heart of the Bordeaux region in southwest France.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/28.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_28.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at the estate of the Miller family - the product of a romantic story about an American man who met and fell in love with a French woman during a summer internship at a winery in the US.  Darren Miller and Manu Raguenot married and moved back to France to work for Manu's parents at the vineyard in Bordeaux that her parents had owned and nurtured since the 1960's. Darren and Manu would soon buy all the vineyards from Manu's parents and build their own homestead on the estate where they now live with their 2 beautiful girls and Manu's parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/29.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_29.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='209' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are among the most gracious and hospitable people I have ever met, and they let me have quality time among their vineyards to paint!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/31.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_31.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/32.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_32.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/33.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_33.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manu gave us a comprehensive tour of Chateau des Tourtes. Wine making is a fascinating and nuanced art - the painstaking details involved from the growing of the vines in the soil to the harvest of the grapes and removal of their skins - the temperature, the fermentation, the distilling process - all combine to create a wine that has a story and a life of it's own. It is a process that is perfected over many years and generations, and has given me a deeper appreciation for this labor of love. I see many parallels between the discipline of wine making and my own discipline of painting. Great wine and great art never come without great risk, hard work, and humbling failures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/34.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_34.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/35.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_35.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manu was a great tour guide, shuttling us around the Bordeaux region to see beautiful Medieval hill towns and towns on the banks of the Gironde River.  St. Emilion, Blaye, and Bourgh were among the highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/36.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_36.jpg' border='0' width='212' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/37.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_37.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/38.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_38.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Betsy proclaimed this trip a "Ladies Lark'. Indeed it was - filled with sunlight, incredible landscapes, warm hospitality, great food and heartfelt wine.&lt;br /&gt;All my thanks to Betsy and Linda for including me on their Ladies Lark!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/15/39.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/15/s_39.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Bordeaux,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Bordeaux, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-4160919362390824977?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/4160919362390824977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/lark-to-lush-vineyards-of-bordeaux.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/4160919362390824977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/4160919362390824977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/lark-to-lush-vineyards-of-bordeaux.html' title='A &amp;#39;Ladies Lark&amp;#39; to the Lush Vineyards of Bordeaux'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-3269056605427603049</id><published>2011-05-07T04:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T04:43:43.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Ballad of Love and Death</title><content type='html'>Today I waited in line for nearly two hours to enter a church that I deemed worthy of the wait - Sainte Chapelle. This Gothic masterpiece, built in the heart of Paris in the 1240's, is an example of high "Rayonnant" Gothic architecture. I have never seen such massive towering expanses of stained glass look so delicate and weightless. It's as if the stone structural skeleton is not even present.&lt;br /&gt;Below is my little homage to Sainte Chapelle - sadly I wasn't allowed to paint it on-site due to tourist traffic, rules etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/703.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_703.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   King Louis IX built Sainte Chapelle inside the Palace as a private chapel for the monarchs, and also to house some high-profile religious relics that were once in it's possession - most notably Christ's crown of thorns.  Thank you Dave H. For insisting that I add this gem to my itinerary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then moved on to the Musee d'Orsay to see a newly hung exhibition that I have anticipated since I arrived in Paris - "Une Ballade d'Amour et de Mort". Translation: "A Ballad of Love and Death" (sounds more beautiful in French, doesn't it?) This show centers on the photography of the PreRaphaelite artists in 19th century Great Britain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/704.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_704.jpg' border='0' width='198' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This group of painters known as the "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood" retreated into their own romantic ideas about beauty in a time when Victorian England was becoming increasingly industrialized, urbanized, and modernized. They looked to poetry, history, and religion for inspiration. Arthurian legends and Biblical metaphors frequent their works. Admiring the detailed narrative work of Italian artists who came before Raphael, they took the name, the "PreRaphaelites". John Ruskin, their contemporary, an artist and critic, encouraged artists to spend as much time outdoors studying nature as possible. The "daguerrotype" photograph was a new invention that allowed artists and photographers to capture extreme detail on the delicate silver surface of the exposure. Many artists used daguerrotype photos as references, and these photographs comprised the exhibition I saw today. Gorgeous sepia photographs of landscapes with gnarled trees, crusty moss-covered rocks, dense forests, craggy mountains and curling ferns as well as romantic and theatrical figures and portraits in enchanted literary settings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/705.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_705.jpg' border='0' width='219' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/706.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_706.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='205' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My favorite of the entire exhibition was work of the great prolific female photographer Julia Margaret Cameron, friend and neighbor of Alfred Lord Tennyson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/707.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_707.jpg' border='0' width='225' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/708.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_708.jpg' border='0' width='223' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/709.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_709.jpg' border='0' width='260' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/710.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_710.jpg' border='0' width='198' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/711.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_711.jpg' border='0' width='206' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a time when portrait photography was dismissed because the long exposure time made the sitter appear stiff and unnaturally posed, Julia Cameron perfected the medium of portrait photography as an exquisite art form that revealed the soul of the subject and could tell a powerful story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/712.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_712.jpg' border='0' width='207' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/713.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_713.jpg' border='0' width='232' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These haunting photographs will always be in my mind's eye. Ms. Cameron is my new   "she-ro".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/07/714.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/07/s_714.jpg' border='0' width='245' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-3269056605427603049?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/3269056605427603049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/ballad-of-love-and-death.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/3269056605427603049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/3269056605427603049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/ballad-of-love-and-death.html' title='A Ballad of Love and Death'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-683254330611312804</id><published>2011-05-04T04:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T04:05:32.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky Lilies and Gustave Caillebotte</title><content type='html'>On the 1st of May there is a tradition here in France - you buy Lily of the Valley as a good luck charm to keep in your home. These delicate little blooms are a perfect way to commemorate my Springtime in Paris, so I immortalized them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/544.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_544.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/545.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_545.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/546.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_546.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went to the open air market at the end of my street. It is such a sensory experience to see and small the variety of colors and aromas. Raw seafood and shellfish sit next to artisanale cheeses, bouquets of colorful flowers and handmade linen clothing. (My 'fromagier' friend and I below)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/547.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_547.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/548.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_548.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/549.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_549.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, I went to the Jaquemart Andre Museum at the recommendation of my dear former painting professor and fellow woman artist Betty Shelton. This is one of Paris' little hidden jewels - a private collection housed in an elegant 19th century home. The featured exhibition there now is "The Caillebotte Brothers' Private World, Painter and Photographer". It features the works of the 19th century impressionist painter Gustave Caillebotte, and his lesser known brothers Martial and Alfred Caillebotte who photographed the same subject matter: life in early modern Paris. I will focus mainly on Gustave's paintings, as I am a painter and relate to them more closely. These energetic and honest paintings are a window into Parisian bourgeois life at a time when so many rapid changes were taking place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/550.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_550.jpg' border='0' width='248' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 'Second Empire Paris', Baron Haussmann widened boulevards for increased traffic and public festivities, railroads were expanding and a new industrialized, progressive Paris was being constructed. In these paintings, one can sense the excitement of this time, but also the alienation that accompanied it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/551.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_551.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='189' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/552.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_552.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='178' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/553.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_553.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='233' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being of prominent bourgeois social class himself, the Caillebotte brothers also depicted the leisure activities of summers in the country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/554.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_554.jpg' border='0' width='208' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/05/04/555.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/05/04/s_555.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='213' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also used their wealth to collect and support the art of many of their impressionist contemporaries, sustaining their careers. Talented, generous, gentlemen of culture - the Caillebotte brothers are worthy of a distinguished place in art history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-683254330611312804?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/683254330611312804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/lucky-lilies-and-gustave-caillebotte.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/683254330611312804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/683254330611312804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/05/lucky-lilies-and-gustave-caillebotte.html' title='Lucky Lilies and Gustave Caillebotte'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-156448812219856605</id><published>2011-04-29T07:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T07:01:49.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Garden of the Dead</title><content type='html'>"A garden of the dead": This was the phrase my Paris guidebook used to describe Pere Lachaise - the largest and most famous cemetery in the world - located in the northeast corner of Paris. This is a fitting epithet, as I discovered today on my journey to paint this vast land of souls laid to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1034.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1034.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1035.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1035.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1036.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1036.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pere Lachaise is like a world unto itself - with it's winding tree-lined pathways through acres of tombs, monuments, and mausoleums. Inside the walls of this cemetery are buried the likes of Oscar Wilde, Marcel Proust, Honore de Balzac, the famous lovers Peter Abelard and Heloise,  Edith Piaf, and our very own Jim Morrison. A big thank you to Rachel M. for suggesting this spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1037.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1037.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1038.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1038.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1039.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1039.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1040.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1040.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I awoke, it was overcast and grey - so I killed time doing other tasks waiting for the weather to clear up so I could go paint at Pere  Lachaise. Then it dawned on me - what better time to go hang out in a 200 year-old cemetery than under a dark, brooding sky.  How morbidly Romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through my little painting, an old French man with piercing blue eyes approached me and told me I was very "courageux" to be painting here. When I asked him why, he responded jovially in French "Aren't you afraid that a dead person will rise up out of one of those tombs?"  We both laughed and I responded that I wasn't afraid.&lt;br /&gt;But now that he mentioned it.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the remaining daylight hours in a cafe just outside the cemetery drinking one coffee after another, getting buzzed on the caffeine, writing, and drawing - waiting for the rush hour to end so that I didn't have to crowd onto the metro with a wet painting. That never ends well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/29/1041.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/29/s_1041.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thankful to have yet another unique and authentic Paris experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-156448812219856605?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/156448812219856605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/garden-of-dead.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/156448812219856605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/156448812219856605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/garden-of-dead.html' title='Garden of the Dead'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-5180293633547110649</id><published>2011-04-28T03:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T03:30:18.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Enchanted Forest and Farewell to a Friend</title><content type='html'>On the last day of Amy's visit here in Paris, we decided to take a train ride to the Forest of Fontainebleau. This dense and beautiful forest is one of France's national jewels, and has been a popular destination and muse for many artists throughout the centuries. Thank you Mark W. for reminding me about this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scouted out the perfect place to paint while Amy went for a jog on the trails - she is an avid outdoors-woman. This was the perfect tranquil escape from the bustling metropolis of Paris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/421.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_421.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/422.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_422.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/423.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_423.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how the light filters down through the trees and dances around on the underbrush. This painting is dedicated to you Dad - happy birthday! Sorry I can't be there to celebrate with you. You would love it in these woods - they smell fresh and amazing in the Springtime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This forest was beloved by many important 19th century painters including Monet, Corot, and Millet, who affectionately called Fontainebleau their "outdoor studio". It gave me a deeper appreciation for the privilege to follow in their footsteps and paint here. (Monet below)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/424.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_424.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='207' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Chateau of Fontainebleau is surrounded by the forest and was the 16th century summer home and hunting park of king Francois I, and eventually became Napoleon's primary residence in the 19th c.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/425.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_425.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/426.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_426.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It's so regal and immaculately manicured, complete with lakes and fountains and a moat surrounding the whole perimeter of the estate. Not bad for a summer cottage in the woods, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy and I returned to Paris to have our last dinner at Cafe de Flore, one of Hemingway's old haunts, and finished the night with some swanky cocktails and dessert at a chic place in Odeon. What an adventure it has been - many memories made. Thank you Amy - you made "the city of lights" even brighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/427.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_427.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/428.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_428.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/28/429.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/28/s_429.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Fontainebleau,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Fontainebleau, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-5180293633547110649?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/5180293633547110649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/enchanted-forest-and-farewell-to-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5180293633547110649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5180293633547110649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/enchanted-forest-and-farewell-to-friend.html' title='An Enchanted Forest and Farewell to a Friend'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-4646767189613693188</id><published>2011-04-27T03:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T03:49:28.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Florence, Rome, and an Unforgettable Easter</title><content type='html'>Joyful Easter wishes and a belated Happy Passover to the ones I love across an ocean!&lt;br /&gt;It was a very memorable Easter for Amy and I - as we spent the morning in Rome and caught our flight back to Paris in time to spend a few hours at the Louvre and attend evening Mass at Notre Dame - an Easter itinerary we never thought we'd see in our lives.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Florence was lovely - we only had one day there so we just did the highlights - the Duomo of Santa Maria del Fiore &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/486.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_486.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the Medici Baptistry of San Giovanni, lingering on the Ponte Vecchio at sunset,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/487.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_487.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and going for a hike in the sprawling Boboli Gardens overlooking Florence in all its Renaissance majesty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/488.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_488.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/489.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_489.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next stop: Rome - a fascinating cocktail of ancient civilization and gritty modern urban sprawl. As a result of time constraints and Easter holiday revised hours, we didn't get to visit the Vatican. We only had time explore the Forum and ancient ruins and see the major sites and churches in the city, but we had a very full Roman experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/490.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_490.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/491.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_491.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my third time in Rome and as usual I tried to hunt down as many Caravaggio paintings in obscure churches as I could. This time I got to see one of my favorites that I hadn't yet encountered in person - the "Madonna di Loreto" or "Madonna of the Pilgrims".  I love the earthy, un-stylized look of the kneeling peasants with their dirty feet and this humble Madonna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/492.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_492.jpg' border='0' width='165' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very powerful to be in Rome on Good Friday - as this was the site of the persecution, torment, and death of so many early Christian martyrs who shared in Christ's suffering in an excruciatingly real and literal way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result of a horrendous travel mix-up that I won't go into here, we missed our scheduled Saturday - which we thought left at 6:45 PM but in fact left at 6:45 AM that morning. Without us. You all know that sinking feeling.  We had to scramble to rebook our flight for Easter morning and to book a last-minute hotel room in Rome Saturday night. (a very costly mistake). All of Europe is traveling at Easter time - so it was nearly impossible to find a train, a plane, or a bus to get out of Rome. With the help of a new God-sent friend in Paris who helped us over the phone to find and book a flight, we were on our way home to Paris on Easter morning. When we arrived at the apartment, we changed into our Easter dresses - the ones we would have worn to church and Easter dinner with our families back home - and squeezed in a couple hours at the Louvre before trudging in heels over a mile of cobblestone streets to Notre Dame, where we packed in like sardines with a multitude of the faithful. It was awesome.  A children's choir chanted psalms in Latin and we strained to understand as much as we could of the priest's French sermon; a message about the meaning of the Resurrection and the new possibilities it opens for humanity - for glorious life beyond life, and the particular desperation for this regenerative power in the often dark and uncertain crossroads of human history in which we live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/27/493.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/27/s_493.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-4646767189613693188?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/4646767189613693188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/florence-rome-and-unforgettable-easter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/4646767189613693188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/4646767189613693188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/florence-rome-and-unforgettable-easter.html' title='Florence, Rome, and an Unforgettable Easter'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-6820201165398650212</id><published>2011-04-21T14:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T14:55:43.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Venetian Masters and a Sinking City</title><content type='html'>Venice is like a city that I have always dreamed about but never knew actually existed. I was immediately struck by the quietness and solitude that emanated from this city, and quickly realized that it was due to the fact that busy 4-lane highways have been replaced by silent narrow canals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2663.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2663.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2664.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2664.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2665.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2665.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The colors are gorgeous - warm and saturated. There is more beauty and less noise. In Venice, one listens with their eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Venice carries the memory of a once flourishing  Medieval Europe and a prosperous center of economic, architectural, and artistic innovation. &lt;br /&gt;I once read an art historian describe the Venetian Renaissance painters as Alchemists who transform paint into flesh, velvet, silk, and taffeta. The sensual textures and colors in Venetian Painting are unmatched by any others in art history. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2666.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2666.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2667.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2667.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2668.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2668.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2669.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2669.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2670.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2670.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2671.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2671.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Titian, Tintoretto, and Veronese are prime exemplars of this genius.  the Academia, the "Scuola", and churches in Venice are filled with their immense luminous works. It was like a treasure hunt to find them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2672.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2672.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2673.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2673.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2674.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2674.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Basilica San Marco with its shimmering Byzantine mosaic-covered interior was a highlight too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2675.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2675.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2676.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2676.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2677.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2677.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food in this city is delicious and affordable, which made me wonder if standard rent prices are too. I am seriously considering another temporary relocation here. Amy and I got lost a few times and made some fun friends during our stay. We were a bit sad to board the train to Florence this morning. Already dreaming of my next return to Venice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/21/2678.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/21/s_2678.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Venice,%20Italy&amp;z=10'&gt;Venice, Italy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-6820201165398650212?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/6820201165398650212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/venetian-masters-and-sinking-city.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6820201165398650212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6820201165398650212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/venetian-masters-and-sinking-city.html' title='Venetian Masters and a Sinking City'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-7129800215798450145</id><published>2011-04-18T18:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T18:05:48.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Au Revoir Paris, Buon Giorno Italia!</title><content type='html'>My cloudy little goodbye painting for Paris:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/18/3110.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/18/s_3110.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Amy and I depart for the Italian segment of our adventure. We are leaving Paris in a few hours to to fly to Venice - a first visit for both of us. After two nights in Venice, we take the train to Florence for a day and a night, and then finish out the trip with two days in Rome - Good Friday and Holy Saturday - and flying back to Paris in time for Easter. To say the least I feel blessed and humbled to be here at this time of the year, and at this season in my life. So much newness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few days have been very full - full of unexpected new friends &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/18/3111.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/18/s_3111.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and exploring the flavors of different neighborhoods in Paris (as well as the flavors of their cuisine). Last night's rabbit stew:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/18/3112.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/18/s_3112.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend gave me a mandatory assignment to read Earnest Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast" before I came to Paris - and I did to my delight. It is a memoir chronicling Hemingway's life in Paris as a young man and the impact it had on his senses and his flowering literary genius. He remarks, simply and truly, "There is never any end to Paris".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/18/3113.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/18/s_3113.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-7129800215798450145?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/7129800215798450145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/au-revoir-paris-buon-giorno-italia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/7129800215798450145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/7129800215798450145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/au-revoir-paris-buon-giorno-italia.html' title='Au Revoir Paris, Buon Giorno Italia!'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-6807695572617268037</id><published>2011-04-16T07:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T07:31:32.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dark Painting and a Bright Friend</title><content type='html'>This is the start of yesterday's painting. I will have to work from a photo, as I feared the skies would open up and pour on me at any minute. April in Paris is often overcast in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/16/1103.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/16/s_1103.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up, Paris was like a sad song; wistful, foreboding, elegant.&lt;br /&gt;The dark spires of Notre Dame against the brooding sky was a painting waiting to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Amy arrived today, bright-eyed as usual and full of energy after a long day of travel and airport shuffle. It was a joy to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/16/1104.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/16/s_1104.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We wasted no time - covered a lot of touristy tracks for fun -  I took her on a walking tour of the city and we had a very chic late dinner at Tokyo Eat, a hip meeting spot housed in the contemporary art exhibition space, the Palais de Tokyo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/16/1105.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/16/s_1105.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished off the night with a walk to the glittering, illuminated Eiffel Tower, then wearily dragged ourselves home on the metro, exhausted from &lt;br /&gt;a long day of exploring Paris on foot. The next phase of the adventure begins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/16/1106.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/16/s_1106.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-6807695572617268037?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/6807695572617268037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/dark-painting-and-bright-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6807695572617268037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6807695572617268037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/dark-painting-and-bright-friend.html' title='A Dark Painting and a Bright Friend'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-8108269964962623589</id><published>2011-04-13T09:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T09:38:03.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evening Melancholy and the Company of Books</title><content type='html'>Today's painting: dusk from the heights of Montmartre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/13/1491.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/13/s_1491.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of a clear day, the sky fills with these subtle beautiful warm colors, but this sight is always a bit of a sad one for me, signifying the end of yet another day in Paris. The excitement of the day with all its museums, art, commotion, sights, sounds, and jam-packed schedule comes to a screeching halt. Shops close, people begin rushing through the streets with their groceries in tow, hurrying home to the people they love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A word about living alone in Paris: it is incredible, but it is also hard.  I have no actual friends in Paris yet, as most of the people I have met so far have been passing through, and most of my activities have been solitary (painting, museums, exploring, etc.).  It is not advisable for a young woman to be wandering around alone at night, but thankfully the neighborhood in which I live is pretty safe and has lots of young people and students hanging out, smoking and debating in cafes until the wee hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/13/1492.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/13/s_1492.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have a ritual now when I return home in the evenings: turn on some music to break the silence in my empty apartment,  get started on a glass of red wine (I'm having fun trying different varieties) and start making dinner.  I am in better shape than ever; I walk several miles every day in my jaunts around the city, and my apartment is on the 4th floor. And yes I take the stairs. Every time. There is an elevator and I am not afraid of elevators, but this one is an upright coffin. Seriously - would you step inside this thing and let the door close? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/13/1493.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/13/s_1493.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my first week here, my body felt like a 90 year-old woman; sore and stiff and with bruised feet. Now I am fully adjusted to this acute active new lifestyle, and I am also starting to feel very at home now in my little apartment.  My dear friend Amy arrives on Friday for a 2-week visit. So excited!&lt;br /&gt;I made a thrilling discovery my first week here: the legendary bookstore "Shakespeare and Company" is literally 2 blocks from my apartment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/13/1494.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/13/s_1494.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steeped in history, this cluttered little treasure chest of antiquarian &amp; contemporary books has been a meeting place for the likes of Earnest Hemingway and James Joyce. The Nazis closed it when they occupied Paris in 1941, and it reopened 10 years later in 1951, attracting scores of post-war Beat Generation poets.  There is an incredible variety of books here - my heart is pounding just thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/13/1495.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/13/s_1495.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could spend days on end here, in fact I think I might. If you spent enough time browsing here, you could get the equivalent of a liberal arts college education. For the time being I have no phone service, Internet, or television here at my apartment -  which is pretty isolating but it has forced me to reflect, read, write, and be quiet enough to confront myself in ways that I couldn't otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-8108269964962623589?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/8108269964962623589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/evening-melancholy-and-company-of-books.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/8108269964962623589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/8108269964962623589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/evening-melancholy-and-company-of-books.html' title='Evening Melancholy and the Company of Books'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-7016292082815517176</id><published>2011-04-12T04:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T04:57:56.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rodin and the Resurrection</title><content type='html'>I find myself often unable to sleep here. There is so much beauty - so much to learn and see and sense. It is like trying to take a drink from a fire hydrant - simply too much at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today: the Rodin Museum. I spent the entire day there drawing, writing, documenting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/571.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_571.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His works haunt me. Experiencing this museum was one of those revelations where you sense that from this exact point in time, nothing can ever be the same. There is a stake in the ground and a deep inner shift has taken place. Rodin was a force of nature. In his prolific life as a sculptor, he produced hundreds of drawings, plaster and marble studies (maquettes) and fully finished bronze cast sculptures. Many of his best-known works, such as "the Thinker" and "the Three Shades" were actually preparatory studies for the masterpiece that he worked on throughout his whole life and never fully completed - "The Gates of Hell" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/573.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_573.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/575.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_575.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/576.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_576.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;based on Dante's 'Divine Comedy', and also on Ghiberti's 'Gates of Paradise' that I saw a few years ago in Florence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At church on Sunday (this great English-speaking church I found), the pastor read a meditation from the Old Testament - Ezekiel ch. 37, the infamous "Valley of Dry Bones" passage in which God transports the prophet Ezekiel to a valley filled with old dried bones of scattered Israelites. God then commands Ezekiel to tell the bones to rise up and join together, and they did. Then he commanded them to take on ligaments, and then flesh, and then Finally, God breathed the Spirit of life into them. Before Ezekiel's very eyes these dry bones were re-assembled into bodies -living ones. It is read during Lent as a promise of resurrection and redemption - the Legacy of Christ and abundant new life birthed out of hopelessness and sorrow. In Rodin's works, I see these themes, as the figures seem to be writhing, coming to life, struggling, emerging, being birthed, full of joy, pain, and the range of human emotional landscape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/577.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_577.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/578.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_578.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/579.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_579.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/580.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_580.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/581.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_581.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/582.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_582.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/583.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_583.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/584.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_584.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/585.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_585.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog entry about Rodin would not be complete without mention of his brilliant student, protege, muse, and lover, Camille Claudel.  Camille was a fierce talent and personality all her own. Her beauty, strong will, and passion for art lead her to great success as a sculptor, but also lead to her tragic downward spiral toward the end of her life (which I won't go into here). Here was a woman fighting to forge a vision and artistic identity separate from that of her master mentor, Rodin. There was a room at the Museum dedicated to her (her works below).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/586.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_586.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/587.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_587.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/12/588.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/12/s_588.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-7016292082815517176?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/7016292082815517176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/rodin-and-resurrection.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/7016292082815517176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/7016292082815517176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/rodin-and-resurrection.html' title='Rodin and the Resurrection'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-67420354453254080</id><published>2011-04-11T03:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T03:02:16.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gustave Moreau: Pagan Gods &amp; Christian Saints, and a Night with Bach</title><content type='html'>I went on a special Mission yesterday to see the Gustave Moreau Museum in Montmartre. Moreau's dream-like paintings fascinate me. Highly influenced by Delacroix and Chasserieu, Gustave Moreau had a fanciful and stylized vision all his own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/354.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_354.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is considered a Symbolist painter and also a Romanticist, though he rejected labels and categories to describe his work.  The themes in his paintings brought together Pagan mythology and Christian belief, often illustrating how Greek and Roman myths foretold the life, death and resurrection of Christ, the ultimate Hero and Path to Divine wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/355.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_355.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/356.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_356.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/357.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_357.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreau never married and had no children, living a life completely devoted to his art.  He was ill leading up to his death and made arrangements for his elegant 3-story home and studio to be made into a museum. It is dazzling. His paintings are huge and even though many of them are unfinished, they are  windows into the mind of this great painter. Plus, they look amazing against the Salmon-colored walls. Whoever chose this paint swatch was a genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/358.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_358.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/359.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_359.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/360.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_360.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I treated myself to a really special experience - I bought a ticket to see J.S. Bach's "The Passion of St. John" performed in the Church of Mary Magdalene in Paris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/11/361.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/11/s_361.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bach composed this as a Lenten Mass for a church in Leipzig in the 1700's, and I felt like I was transported there. It is Bach's interpretation of Christ's passion according to the Gospel of John. This piece less 'finished' than his other works and carries the raw drama and tension of Jesus' arrest, judgment under Pontius Pilate, and subsequent torment and death. It was incredibly moving, to say the least. &lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-67420354453254080?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/67420354453254080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/gustave-moreau-pagan-gods-christian.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/67420354453254080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/67420354453254080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/gustave-moreau-pagan-gods-christian.html' title='Gustave Moreau: Pagan Gods &amp;amp; Christian Saints, and a Night with Bach'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-8046191217734261591</id><published>2011-04-09T04:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T04:06:21.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucas Cranach and Paris Rooftops at Night</title><content type='html'>Last night there was a group of middle-aged people a few doors down hanging out on a terrace and getting drunk on wine. Later on in the night, I heard one of them break out a Guitar and play the most beautiful Flamenco I've ever heard. I threw open the window to listen and it was a beautiful night - clear and warm, and I could see the rooftops of my neighborhood and the lit-up steeple of Notre Dame, so I broke out my oil paints and did this little Nocturne painting from my window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/562.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_562.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wandered around the Luxembourg gardens today. I think they were built by the Medici Family, but they are like luxurious Roman gardens from ancient times, complete with classical sculpture and fountains. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/563.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_563.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/564.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_564.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also the Musee de Luxembourg, a grand museum inside the gardens, which happens to have an amazing exhibit up right now: " Lucas Cranach et Son Temps" (Lucas Cranach and his time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/565.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_565.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='188' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/566.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_566.jpg' border='0' width='188' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a comprehensive exhibition of the life and works of Lucas Cranach, the man who ushered in the Northern European Renaissance when he became the Court painter of Wittenburg (then an Austrian enclave of the Holy Roman Empire).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/567.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_567.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='193' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He was also close friends with Martin Luther and played a crucial role in propagating the ideals of the Protestant reformation.&lt;br /&gt;His paintings have a beautiful strangeness to them - the golden figures in his paintings emerge out of dark, lush jewel-toned landscapes. The serpentining rhythms and shapes give his work a certain sensuality - and ironically the same paintings contain in them a warning against the passions they seek to ignite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/568.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_568.jpg' border='0' width='198' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/09/569.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/09/s_569.jpg' border='0' width='220' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-8046191217734261591?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/8046191217734261591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/lucas-cranach-and-paris-rooftops-at.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/8046191217734261591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/8046191217734261591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/lucas-cranach-and-paris-rooftops-at.html' title='Lucas Cranach and Paris Rooftops at Night'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-9057313936267727021</id><published>2011-04-08T04:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T04:47:03.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gypsy Lilacs and a Pilgrimage to the Sacred Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;There is an old gypsy woman with a mouth full of gold teeth who sits on a street corner selling wild flowers near my apartment. Last night as I was walking home she was holding up bouquets of lilacs that I couldn't pass up. The price she shouted to me was very reasonable, but when I got out my wallet to pay her, the price she demanded magically doubled. Gypsy magic. I told her I could not buy the lilacs at this price, and began to walk away. She changed her tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now my apartment is filled with aromatic lilac fragrance - not to mention a great still life subject. It was a beautiful day today and I opened my living room windows to let all that air and light in, set down the lilacs, and got to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/549.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_549.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/550.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_550.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/551.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_551.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, this morning's fruit tarte:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/552.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_552.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast has become a holy experience. It changes your attitude to eat something that's made with that much care and artisanship.  Yesterday I saw these fruit tarts in a 'patisserie' window walking home, and I couldn't wait to come back and get one in the morning. I could hardly sleep last night in anticipation. Sad but true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon I made a pilgrimage to the Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) Basilica in Montmartre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/553.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_553.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Montmartre used to be home to many important Early modern artists, progressives and Bohemians, like Modigliani. There are still lots of artists here, but touristy ones. Montmartre is unique because it is situated on top of a butte (mound of land) so it provides a stunning view of all of Paris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/554.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_554.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad news: you get up there by climbing hundreds of steps. The good news: Burned off the fruit tarte.&lt;br /&gt;This is my second time visiting the Sacre Coeur and it is a marvel - it has a Byzantine style interior with mosaics covering the ceilings and walls. I arrived just in time for Vespers (evening prayers) and there was a choir of nuns chanting Lenten meditations from the Psalms and other scriptures - in French. They sounded like Angels - I wanted to stay there forever. It held my heart and mind aloft - amazing how music and art can launch you into the presence of the Indescribable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/08/555.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/08/s_555.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-9057313936267727021?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/9057313936267727021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/gypsy-lilacs-and-pilgrimage-to-sacred.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/9057313936267727021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/9057313936267727021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/gypsy-lilacs-and-pilgrimage-to-sacred.html' title='Gypsy Lilacs and a Pilgrimage to the Sacred Heart'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-2289275477975592416</id><published>2011-04-07T02:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T02:45:02.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cherry Blossoms and a Night with the Masters</title><content type='html'>On the first day I arrived here, I was so taken aback by the billowing pink Japanese cherry blossoms that surround Notre Dame just down the street from my apartment. Everywhere I went, I couldn't stop thinking about these overflowing, gushing bushels of pink, cotton candy flowers. This morning when I woke up, I had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't be in prime time much longer, and the blooms were probably at their peak now. Daryl, if you're reading this, I dedicate this painting to you - this is probably one of your favorite fleeting sights in Tokyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/369.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_369.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Let me tell you - as soon as you get out a paintbrush in public in Paris you become a major spectacle, 95% of which are wide-eyed children, trying to get their parents to stop and let them watch for a little. Precious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/370.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_370.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/371.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_371.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This painting is a little silly and I have to admit I'm self conscious of it. It was so out of control, so childish, so... pink. But I was so lost in the moment when I was painting them, that the outcome didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Louvre was open until 10 PM tonight - so I took myself on a date to spend an evening with all my favorite paintings. I had butterflies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/372.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_372.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be the first of many trips to the Louvre, so I spent most of the time with the Dutch and French painting wings, intending to visit others later. The paintings that impacted me are too many to list here, but below are some highlights. (excuse the glare - taken with my iPhone). There are two rooms full of expansive Nicolas Poussin paintings and countless Rubens' and a few little Vermeer gems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/373.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_373.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/374.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_374.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/375.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_375.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/376.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_376.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished off the night with an evening snack at 'Les Deux Magots', the historic cafe where Earnest Hemingway and Ezra Pound and many other literary figures hung out. Of course, it is overpriced and very "old money" now, but it was fun to imagine being there amidst "The Lost Generation" in the 1920's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/07/377.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/07/s_377.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-2289275477975592416?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/2289275477975592416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/cherry-blossoms-and-night-with-masters.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/2289275477975592416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/2289275477975592416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/cherry-blossoms-and-night-with-masters.html' title='Cherry Blossoms and a Night with the Masters'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-1663772314200155626</id><published>2011-04-06T04:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T04:33:56.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Manet: the Man who Invented Modernity</title><content type='html'>This was the title of the exhibition that opened today at the Musee d'Orsay.  I waited in a massive line to enter the museum - this is a momentous occassion - Manet is one of France's own heroes, as the lofty title suggests. I was so blown away by the scale, depth and quality of the permanent collection of 19th century painting and sculpture at the Musee d'Orsay that I will save it for another blog post. For now I will just focus on Manet, the man of the hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/527.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_527.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='135' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit I have always had a distaste for the brusqueness of Manet's  realism, the harsh opaque blacks and the whites that appear to be spackled onto the canvases, and his vigorous frantic brush marks. His friend, the French writer and critic Emile Zola wrote that "One can see  in Manet's paintings a fierce search for truth'. Maybe it is this fierceness that has made me wince in the past, but has also led me to re-examine him with interest and appreciate him anew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/528.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_528.jpg' border='0' width='167' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/529.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_529.jpg' border='0' width='132' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/530.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_530.jpg' border='0' width='200' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I began to see the important connection between Manet and Spanish painting. His works have that bold and generous paint quality of Velaszquez and the strange dramatic tension of Goya and El Greco's works. He even painted many Spanish subjects - traditional Spanish dancers in all their sexy bold finery. Baudelaire once remarked  "the genius of Spain resides now in France".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/531.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_531.jpg' border='0' width='204' height='281' align='right' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manet's friendship with the poet and art critic Charles Baudelaire was important, as they both sought to bring romanticism into modern life. This is seen most clearly in Manet's famous "Olympia" and "Dejeuner sur l'herbe" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/532.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_532.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;using themes from Italian Renaissance painting and giving them a very harsh modern treatment in these pictures. Even the lighting is harsh and direct. He painted religious compositions to gain public acclaim, but instead scandalized everyone with his 'profane' treatment of sacred subject matter. His "Dead Christ Supported by Two Angels" was mocked by one critic who called it "Christ in the Cellar, supported by Two Chimney Sweeps".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/533.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_533.jpg' border='0' width='233' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, my dinner tonight: Artisanale Gelato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/06/534.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/06/s_534.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France%20&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-1663772314200155626?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/1663772314200155626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/manet-man-who-invented-modernity.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/1663772314200155626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/1663772314200155626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/manet-man-who-invented-modernity.html' title='Manet: the Man who Invented Modernity'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-6110236059403482824</id><published>2011-04-05T01:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T01:59:26.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chocolate Crisis and Three Fine Fellas</title><content type='html'>Since most museums in Paris are closed today, I used the day to take care of the internet problem at my apartment. It hasn't worked since I arrived and I spent most of my day dealing with this - my apologies for delayed email replies! Long story short: it'll be up &amp; running next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the frustrating Internet debacle, I desperately needed fresh air, and more importantly - chocolate.  I decided to kill 2 birds with one stone and explore "Le Marais" neighborhood across the Seine, while on a mission to find the perfect chocolate dessert. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/05/175.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/05/s_175.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le Marais is the Jewish neighborhood of Paris and there are so many shops and markets with Israeli spices and beautiful Mediterranean kosher foods. It is very bohemian and full of thrift stores, street musicians, antiques, art galleries and other treasures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/05/176.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/05/s_176.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I made a point to pass by Victor Hugo's home at Place des Vosges, as well as steal a quiet moment at the beautiful Church of St. Paul. Later, I was on a street corner staring dumbfounded at my guidebook when a wildly eccentric old woman approached me and asked what I was looking for. Her hair was wrapped in a purple turban with a rhinestone-encrusted brooch hanging off of it, and it looked like she was wearing every article of clothing she owned. I promptly responded in French that I was seeking the best chocolate in Le Marais. She gave me a challenging look and asked if I was "serious" about chocolate, and if so, she knew a place that was very expensive but no doubt the best chocolatier. She was like an angel in the form of a crazy aunt.&lt;br /&gt;After following her vague directions and asking several  passers-by for help, I finally arrived to find employees wiping down the counters - It had just closed. I was a rabid wolf at this point.&lt;br /&gt;I found another place in my guidebook a mile away rumored to have legendary deserts and live gypsy music. After hiking there and sightseeing on the way, I arrived to find the place packed without one single table or barstool available. Foiled again. I roamed the neighborhood and let my intuition guide me to this adorable cafe where I sat outside and ordered the most delicious chocolate cake I've ever had. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/05/177.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/05/s_177.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to me sat a table of 3 friendly guys from the South of France who struck up a conversation with me. They were celebrating their friend's birthday in Paris and were heading to the Eiffel tower to finish the night. They said it would be a great "birthday surprise" if I would join. Of course - it was the icing on the cake. Pun intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/05/178.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/05/s_178.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/05/179.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/05/s_179.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/05/180.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/05/s_180.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, the Musee d'Orsay awaits. Can't sleep - it is like the night before Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-6110236059403482824?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/6110236059403482824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/chocolate-crisis-and-three-fine-fellas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6110236059403482824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/6110236059403482824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/chocolate-crisis-and-three-fine-fellas.html' title='The Chocolate Crisis and Three Fine Fellas'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-5693037162989651732</id><published>2011-04-04T05:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T05:54:04.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prince of Dreams</title><content type='html'>Today I went to see an arresting exhibit at the Musee Grand Palais entitled - "Odilon Redon: Prince du Reves" (Prince of Dreams). Odilon Redon was a late 19th century painter and printmaker who was a leading figure in the European Symbolist movement. Highly influenced by the French painters Delacroix and Gustave Moreau, he sought to articulate his brooding and mystical inner life, drawing on Biblical imagery, the poetry of Edgar allen Poe and Gustave Flaubert as well as modern science, the realm of the subconscious, and Darwin's theory of evolution. He believed that forms could transcend their literal aesthetic appearance and reveal deeper realities about the human experience. Angels, demons, prehistoric humans, madmen and prophets haunt his canvases.&lt;br /&gt;I spent the whole day at this vast exhibition - walked through it 3 times -  he was so prolific. The guards at the museum were brutal and I couldn't get away with taking any photos, but here's a selection I found online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/04/851.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/04/s_851.jpg' border='0' width='247' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/04/852.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/04/s_852.jpg' border='0' width='174' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/04/853.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/04/s_853.jpg' border='0' width='224' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/04/854.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/04/s_854.jpg' border='0' width='196' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/04/855.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/04/s_855.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/04/856.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/04/s_856.jpg' border='0' width='203' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing Odilon Redon's body of work today was a breakthrough for me as an artist. In his visionary etchings, drawings, and paintings I saw the meeting place of the mind,  body, and soul. In my life and work I am always trying to address the balance and harmony between passion and reason, darkness and light, death and resurrection, the life of the imagination and the realm of real forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Paris,%20France&amp;z=10'&gt;Paris, France&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-5693037162989651732?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/5693037162989651732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/prince-of-dreams.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5693037162989651732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/5693037162989651732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/prince-of-dreams.html' title='Prince of Dreams'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-211562293874807359</id><published>2011-04-03T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T09:00:42.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Vie Parisienne</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It is the end of day two in Paris and already I'm falling in love with this city.  First day was not much to tell - the shuffle of getting from the airport to my apartment and meeting the landlord - a jolly old French woman who spoke rapid-fire French to me while explaining the heating, laundry, cable, etc. This wreaked havoc on my fuzzy, sleep deprived, jet-lagged brain and I almost burst into tears. But instead I followed along, asking her to repeat each sentence "encore, plus lentement" (again, more slowly). This was a blessing in disguise, as it was exactly the French lanuage boot camp that I needed to dig up my long-forgotten dormant French vocab reservoir. This place is adorable - two big windows in the front with light spilling in, antique furniture, a comfy queen-size bed, and just enough space in the corner of the living room for the little makeshift studio I set up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/03/1484.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/03/s_1484.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/03/1485.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/03/s_1485.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' align='left' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The location is a little hard to believe - my street literally empties out onto a view of Notre Dame Cathedral, towering and majestic in all her Gothic beauty. I took a walk tonight in my neighborhood to really get acclimated. Below is the view tonight from the end of my street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/03/1486.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/03/s_1486.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night, the cafes of 'le Quartier Latin' fill with exotic-looking people, and the steam, smells, and flavors of every kind of cuisine fill the air. Vintage neon lights shine against the late evening sky, and the energy - the verve and excitement- is contagious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/03/1488.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/03/s_1488.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I decided to get acquainted with Paris by taking myself on a walking tour spanning the width of Paris all along the Seine. I walked miles, taking time to linger at all the major sites (This week I gave myself permission to be a 'tourist'). After stopping at the Hotel des Invalides (burial site if Napoleon), taking a stroll in the Tuilerie Gardens, passing the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay, browsing the art &amp;amp; antique dealers of the 7th district, the shops on the Champs-Elysees and finally the Arc de Triomphe, I stopped to eat at a sidewalk cafe. Sitting behind me was an old woman handing food to a squawking cockatoo perched on her shoulder, and to my right was a couple reading a book, kissing, and gazing into each other's eyes. This is my kind of city.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-211562293874807359?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/211562293874807359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/la-vie-parisienne.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/211562293874807359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/211562293874807359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/04/la-vie-parisienne.html' title='La Vie Parisienne'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4923158962901734674.post-2743177221100974702</id><published>2011-03-28T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T06:57:28.776-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Paris'/><title type='text'>Paris Adventure 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Thursday is departure day! I am grateful and delighted to announce that I will be traveling solo to France to live in Paris for two months on an intensely focused artistic retreat. The basic premise: to yank myself out of familiar daily routine and to be challenged and inspired by experiencing life anew in this vast, varied, and exquisite city. I fell in love with Paris on my first visit in 2006 and longed to return. For April and May, I have rented a simple but lovely apartment in the Latin Quarter of Paris, blocks away from the renowned Sorbonne University and the Seine River – a neighborhood that has historically been home to many poets, painters, novelists, and great thinkers. During this time I plan to paint, explore, write, read, linger for hours in museums and cathedrals, and of course – sample plenty of cuisine! I will also try to muster up as much of my 3 years of high school French as I possibly can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Lately in my studio I have been developing large-scale paintings involving the figure. These upcoming months will be a time to step away from large projects and paint simple, small compositions from life.  I will post updates to this blog as often as possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;To my family &amp;amp; friends who encouraged me to do this and sent me off with love &amp;amp; prayers: My deepest gratitude - You make my life rich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4923158962901734674-2743177221100974702?l=adriennestein.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/feeds/2743177221100974702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/03/paris-adventure-2011.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/2743177221100974702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4923158962901734674/posts/default/2743177221100974702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adriennestein.blogspot.com/2011/03/paris-adventure-2011.html' title='Paris Adventure 2011'/><author><name>Adrienne Stein</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07647662796502120936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsyecRPTd7Q/TYGw1M2ZfAI/AAAAAAAAAX0/X_CCF0giR_Q/s220/IMG_1227.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
