These are scary times and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself into making a light post about the beauties of the old world…

I watched the debates in awe, witnessed the bickering over the financial bailout with disbelief and then Paul Newman died and I had the Paris Blues… Watch this magnificent trailer of Newman and Sidney Poitier in Paris of the 60’s.

Did anybody looked cooler than this guy? Beautiful man with a more beautiful heart. Smoking killed him.

Paris remains splendid in spite of all the bad news I have been getting from home—a walk through Place des Vosges at night washed away some of that.

The infernal crowds finally went home and left Isle Saint Louis in peace:

The best remedy— albeit temporary —for the blues is a visit to the Patisserie. Just looking at them can send you to the hospital…

I am not a chocolate or a strawberry person but I would kill for a Religieuse Café!

Window watching is a pleasure in this “walking city”,

Nobody has the money to buy any of these overpriced un-necessities anymore.

United States is trying to absolve itself from its sins and Europe will follow…

This one reminds me of the “poustines” we were wearing as kids back home:

Beautiful Mansard roofs are breathtaking:

but not enough to make me forget this:

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe. Einstein

You would think Prague is all about Kafka, Mucha and Dvorak but it’s really about these dolls - the Babooshka dolls are everywhere in Praha:

I would like to share my last trip to this beautiful city with you. I stayed in this fabulous hotel where everything but the view to the river was red (my favorite color)

these exquisite chandeliers are the pride and joy of the Czech Republic.

this is the view from my room:

and this one

Just look at Frank Gehry’s edifice in the middle of these gorgeous buildings set on the shore of a shallow branch of the Vltava river - these tiny pictures are really not doing it justice.

First the sun was shining,

 then it was raining like hell,

and then this amazing double rainbow; talking about a room with a view…

Prague is a city of posters,

and the capital of caryatids! Paris will never get close to these gorgeous men and women.

these two weren’t talking to each other:

but these two were - for an eternity.

I woke up at 6 in the morning and took the tramway to Charles bridge - the only time in the day that it’s a bit quiet. Cities are majestic in the morning blue hour.

The astronomical  clock is the main tourist attraction.

Speaking of Kafka, he’s omnipresent:

and here and everywhere…

Beautiful  city/people/pastries/absinthe (I brought some mean ones back to L.A.)

All and all, the Czech republic has shown gargantuan progress in a few years since the fall of communism - if only it stayed as inexpensive as the first time I visited…

“A book must be the ax for the frozen sea inside us” Franz Kafka

Christmas is here with all the usual joy and gore! I took some pictures last night from my neck of the woods. Welcome to the winter in the Lala Land.

We are trying so hard to look like New York or Boston in the winter holidays but Los Angeles stays Los Angeles, a comfortable 55 F on Christmas eve.

The Beverly Regent (AKA the pretty woman hotel) looks great in red.

“My little dog - a heartbeat at my feet”

Of course what is all this without music?

And these are some of my favorite store windows - the fabulous Rem Koolhaas‘ Prada flagship is amazing. I’ve always liked his Seattle public library as well.

Red has always been my favorite color.

I have added Blue as another favorite some years ago.

I like them equally now.

By the way, I hate shopping/the crowd/malls - I wished people would stop accumulating extra-everythings (from candles to cars)…We all know people that are hopelessly deluded, bathed in trivia, mesmerized to the point of idiocy by almost any celebrity, amusing themselves to death, self-defeating and absurde at times. I made you read!

Looking back at some of my pictures from Spain, I found this one taken at the Bilbao Guggenheim museum at dusk.

“An art book is a museum without walls.” Andre Malraux

I’ve always loved these ladies! I have fun playing with their images. They’ve been called torchères (torchieres), lampposts and some pretty banal names but I think that they deserve to be called by a “grander” name like “the green Lucinas” (Lucina: she who brings children into the light). I’ve photographed them several times (they are the best models, they never move). Their color changes from bronze green to dark jade passing by some moss and celadon.

The Paris opera house is not hosting any operas; it is now mainly used for ballet performances. Carrier-Belleuse, an old friend of Charles Garnier, the architect of this great theater, contributed the elaborate torcheres that hold the candelabra illuminating the grand staircase and the lampposts outside the opera house.

“Opera is where a guy gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings.“ Robert Burns

Living in Los Angeles, i was kind of blas� about seeing Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum last week but i was surprised by this stunning building that looks somehow “liquid”. it floats majestically on the river Nervion.

the building’s exterior with its titanium sheathing is smoothly fluid, the curves unending. i understand now why they call Gehry not a mere architect but a “starchitect”!

i have to admit that i didn’t care about the much hyped Anselm Kiefer’s exhibition.

the museum’s interior is amazing with a central atrium that reaches 50 meters high - an orgy of glass, steel, limestone and light; CONTINUITY reigns supreme…

Richard Serra’s sculptures in bilbao were a revelation to me and i was glad to catch him on Charlie Rose last night; the breathtaking installations, the sheer space-cutting size of the steel sheets, the spirals and mazes they made were just spellbinding. he will be at the Grand Palais and the MoMA with excess baggage.

aside from this, Bilbao is a boring city.

so i woke up this morning at 5 and headed towards trocadero. the idea of seeing the Eiffel Tower by itself was enough of a reason - the last time i was up this early for a photo shoot was in prague, last may.

the pigeons and me weren’t completely alone… a couple of Parisian lovers were watching the sun rise.

i started walking towards saint germain; Paris’ saturday morning streets were empty but for trash collectors, some late party goers walking back home and the omnipresent american joggers; even my least favorite bridge, pont Alexandre III, looked majestic in the golden morning hue.

i ended my promenade with a café crême at Deux Magots.

there was a big “messe/mass ” in Notre Dame cathedral last sunday; i was lucky to see it - beautiful music and a great show for the faithful and the tourists…

this medieval giant of a building remains spellbinding after 800 years; the other churches seem like little dwarves compared to it.

caf� Panis across the river from Notre Dame, can’t help serving great coffees with a splendid view.

they say pigeons are winged rats but when i saw them eating from the hands of the beautiful Kristina, they looked great; the sparrows weren’t fighting with them - it was enough food for everybird.

this was an interesting museum because you could see where the artist lived - his work has never seemed very interesting to me but i thought a lot about my dear professor Ungvari when i was looking at Moreau’s study: there were many beautiful books and various collections of small drawings; the whole room was bathing in a quiet amber light.