Random Light ? You Decide...

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If you have been reading this blog for any length of time you know there is no religious orientation presented here whatsoever, nor is there any leaning toward paranormal or otherworldly experiences. This page has never been about anything other than presenting photographs I've made over the years, in my own simple way, with plain words.
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A month ago, at the end of January, I had the pleasure of spending a cold, windy afternoon in Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris in the good company of Mary G., Virginia J., Peter O., and la Grenouille, with no other purpose than to stroll and take some cemetery photographs, as we all enjoy doing. It was Mary who suggested I take a look at the tomb of the well known French glass artist Rene Lalique, as there was an interesting sculpted glass crucifixion scene to see on it. Here is a front view:
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This second image is actually the first photo I shot that day of the glass crucifixion scene shown above. I was trying to catch a reflection on the surface of the glass, as reflection photos are another of my interests. When I got home that night I thought this image was rather unusual. What do you think ? What do you see in this photo ? Is what you see here the result of a random of play of light in the glass ? If not, than what do you think of this and what might explain it ? I would really like to hear your opinion.
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Mary G. even took a photo of me taking a photo of Lalique's tomb that afternoon... and very kindly sent it along to me after she got back home to the States... Thanks Again Mary !
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Another Cemetery Reflection...

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Strolling in Pere Lachaise Cemetery the other day with Virginia, Mary, Peter, and la Grenouille, saw this reflection on polished black stone, and thought, of course, of Weekend Reflections.
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Sorry to be so absent here, but have been spending more time over a the Facebook page, link in sidebar. Hope everyone had a happy Valentine's Day...
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Le Destin : Destiny Will Deliver Us

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Que l'on se montre ou se cache
Que l'on soit faible or fort
Le Destin nous arrache
Et nous livre à la Mort
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Whether we show ourselves or we hide
Whether we are weak or strong
Destiny will tear us away
And deliver us unto Death
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Seen in a cemetery north of Paris in the Oise. Hard to argue with logic like that.
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Tombstone Blues

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If you have been looking at these pages for any length of time, you know I love cemeteries, and you also know I love reflected light. So when I came across this puddle reflection on a tombstone after a rainstorm, I was close to heaven. And funny, the blue sky in the reflection is much closer to the real color than the bits of sky visible through the trees. So much dark surface in this image that the metering caused the real sky to get burned out a bit. This was in the Pantin-Aubervilliers Cemetery, just outside Paris, which at 107 hectares, or 264 acres, is the largest cemetery in France. And for another take on Tombstone Blues... click here. And as it is the weekend, and this is a reflection, let's put it up on Weekend Reflections over at James' place.
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Family Photographs . . .

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Hi everyone ! See, haven't disappeared from here entirely, but as mentioned earlier, my new mistress Facebook is rather demanding. She keeps requiring gifts of time, and pearls, diamonds, chateaux, sailboats, etc.  So I am struggling to keep her happy. If you want to see what I mean, just open your FB account, I know you all secretly have one, and "Like" my page named oddly enough : "Owen Phillips Photography France".  
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I had to add "France" on the name because there is another photographer who you can find on Google named Owen Phillips in the UK, who does some great work. By strange coincidence he even has the same middle name as me. And is an acoustic guitar folk musician, also like me, if I could go so far to claim the title of musician. That is a fairly large assumption.
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Was able these past days to get out and wander in a few cemeteries. The two photos here are very recent, the first from Gentilly Cemetery, on the south edge of Paris, the second from Pantin Cemetery, the largest cemetery in all of France, just outside Paris to the northeast. A father and his son killed in World War One. A mother and her daughter who died far too young. Why post such images during the holidays ? Well, for me, they contain strong messages about loving those who are close to you, while you can. For time on Earth is often far shorter for many people than it should be. One never knows when one will have to go.
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Happy Holidays to all !  And I'm very sorry to do so, but I finally turned on the word verification on comments, just far too much spam coming in. Am tired of having to delete it all every time I open blogger. I hate Google's bloody word verification, half the time I can't even read the numbers and some of the letters. But the spam senders can't either, so they lose.  Cheers !
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A Holiday Sampler . . .

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For James Reflections Weekend, these first two are from Cologne, Germany, across from the cathedral there. Famous faces. Call me a "reflections papparazzi".
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This next was high up in the tower of the cathedral. People just have to leave a trace of their presence, affirmation of existence. I guess a blog in cyberspace is the same sort of thing ?
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Finally, saw this fading photo on ceramic in a cemetery near Chantilly, France, this afternoon. Born in 1919, she died in 1940, her short life spanning the space between two World Wars. RIP Marie Lousie.
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As mentioned earlier, I admit to spending a bit of time these days on Facebook cultivating my new photography page there under Owen Phillips Photography France, and also looking around at the surprising number of excellent pages produced by people who have similar interests in cemeteries and abandoned buildings, or other artwork in various places.
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Some particularly good sites I've come across in my wandering on Facebook so far are (click the links here to go there, and these are not in any particular order) :
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Historic Cemeteries
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Staglieno Cemetery and More
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Maurizio Ghiggeri Photography
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Jeanne Trend-Hill Headstone Hunter
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Headstones and History
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Charnel Rose Photography
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Abandoned Love Photography
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Ms Misunderstoods Moments
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Dirty Angel Photography
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Abandoned Americana
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Martin Vegas
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And no doubt all that is just the tip of the iceberg. But am still checking in here too from time to time...
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Armistice Day . . . In Memory . . .

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Armistice Day on November 11th in France marks the end of the First World War, and for the USA it is Veterans Day, and Remembrance Day for the UK. The other day I was a little over an hour early for a train leaving from la Gare Montparnasse to go out to Brittany, so I took a stroll through parts of Montparnasse Cemetery to see what I could see. Following my feet where they might lead me, by chance I stumbled on some interesting bits of history related to la Grande Guerre, pertinent for posting on Armistice Day.
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This first photo shows the tomb of Marie Joseph Eugene Bridoux, who was the first French General killed in the war in September 1914. His son and a grandson were also officers in the French Army, both of them stayed loyal to the Petain government in Vichy during the Second World War, collaborating with the Germans. The son fled to Spain after the war, and was sentenced to death in absentia by France in 1948. The grandson who served with a unit under the Germans in WWII known as the LVF, or Legion of French Volunteers, died in 1945 in Germany. One can only imagine how General Bridoux, buried in Montparnasse after his heroic death in battle, killed by a German bullet, might have felt about his son and grandson collaborating with the Nazis.
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Not far from General Bridoux is the tomb of Armand Cahen, a second lieutenant in an artillery regiment, who died in 1920 at the age of 22, after being awarded the War Cross (Croix de Guerre) for bravery during a heavy shelling attack in June 1918 where toxic gas shells were used. His memorial was quite elaborate, between the large marble sculpture of him and the stone and stained glass enclosure it stands in. I stayed there for a long moment in reverence, and was pondering his fate when the sun came out from behind some clouds, sending bright rays through the stained glass to bathe the white stone bust in red and green light, transforming him.
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Nearby stands a large structure built over the grave of another artillery officer, Marcel Suss, killed in the very early days of the war.
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I had gotten up fairly close to the glass doors of the monument to see the reflected clouds in the glass, when I realized there was a stained glass portrait of Lieutenant Suss in the back wall of the tomb. In all my years of exploring cemeteries, keeping my eyes open for the unusual, I've never seen anything quite like this colorful work on glass with a fine portrait of the deceased.
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A bit further on was one tomb for two brothers killed in the war, the first at Verdun in 1916, and the younger brother in Belgium in October 1918; just a few weeks before the end of the war.
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This camouflaged, chameleon like crucifixion figure was spotted on a gravestone the day previous to the photos from Montparnasse above, in a village near Amiens. I've never seen a Christ figure like this blending in so perfectly with the background. The spot of lichen on his chest seems to form an inverted heart. A minor miracle there ?
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On another grave in the same cemetery a piece of cast iron which fell from an ornate but deteriorating cross above seemed to form a question mark against the cold wet stone it was lying on. Indeed, so many unanswered questions about war and death, rusting iron and lichen on stone, passing time and passing lives. May your Armistice/Remembrance/Veterans Day be rich in reflections.
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As one of the photos above has a reflection of blue sky, cloud, and tree in a glass door, am linking this to James' Weekend Reflections, where I've been too long absent.
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Armistice Day Arriving

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The 94th anniversary of the end of World War One is coming up on November 11th, a national holiday here in France. A fitting time to post a few photos from a couple of sites I had the good fortune to visit recently, thanks to a chance meeting at a stone quarry in the middle of nowhere with two gentlemen also interested the history of what was called "la Grande Guerre"... the Great War. Near the town of Noyon the ruins of a chapel destroyed during the war still remain, with a cast iron Christ within which fell during the shelling. As he suffered some 2000 years ago, so too did his replica suffer nearly 100 years ago in this chapel which stood immediately adjacent to the trenches of the front lines. It is surprising the sculpture was not more heavily damaged, as artillery shells fell like rain in that area.
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More cast iron work in the chapel, with autumn colors, and the iron Crucifixion figure at upper left.
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In the cemetery at Thiescourt, also near the front lines, a memorial to those dreadful years... 1914 to 1918.
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The gate to the German cemetery at Thiescourt.
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During the first world war the German army allowed soldiers of Jewish faith to serve. Things would change not long thereafter.
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"To the memory of Henri Bruge. Born the 1st of February 1882 at Ergues in the Pas de Calais, Adjutant Chef in the 4th Regiment of Cuirassiers, died for France, reported missing in action at Plémont on 9 June1918, awarded the War Cross with silver star and the Military Medal posthumously"
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At the entrance to the old stone quarries near Dreslincourt, occupied by the Germans for three years during the war. They left Gothic inscriptions carved on the outside stone walls, later shattered when they tried to blow up a nearby entrance to the quarry. The words carved here were part of a poem, saying :
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"The world might be torn apart
Every oath like straw
I know a word like iron
It's called soldiers loyalty"
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In German "soldiers loyalty" was one word : Soldatentreu
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Another German sign carved above an entrance to the stone quarries, a labyrinthine series of tunnels that go on for kilometers underground... it would be very easy to get lost in there. I was lucky to have a good guide who knew the place well.
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Graffiti from the war years... they didn't have spray paint cans back then, so they carved instead.
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In the woods outside unexploded artillery shells can still be found lying about. Chilling reminders of the not so distant past here.
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An imperial eagle carved on an exterior quarry wall.
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More German, to the effect that the German soldiers feared only God.
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Inside the miles of tunnels there were signposts, here indicating the way to the Command Post Calypso.
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Boots from the war still remain undisturbed deep in the tunnels.
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A wonderful French rooster carved on a wall to honor the 324th Infantry Regiment.
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Near one of the entrances to the quarry tunnels.
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German barbed wire from the war, rusting but still ready to unroll and use apparently. Maybe a bit fragile now, but still looking nasty.
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More artillery shells found in farm fields nearby, waiting to be collected by the munitions disposal service which still remains busy nearly 100 years later.
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Of Crystal Balls and Faded Fake Flowers . . .

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Another cry in the wilderness . . . journeying out into endless space . . .
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As reflections go this weekend, it's not much of a reflection in this crystal ball, a bit of sky with horizon, a double reflection actually, from the front outer surface, and from the back inner surface, the photographer doubled in the middle, the same elbow pointing up and down.
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A crystal ball on a gravestone, an overturned candle holder.
Who can say what the future holds ?
What wavering flame will light the ever after ?
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Where do the fake flowers come from that people put on graves ?
How on earth are they made ?
No machine could do this painstaking work so perfectly
I can't help but wonder if there are kids in sweat shops
Somewhere sewing these bits of synthetic fabric together,
Forming the brittle blooms, glued on plastic stalks,
And finally placed on tombstones  ?
Looking surprisingly like real flowers
Not wilting quite so fast as the natural
Yet fading nevertheless
Over the passing years
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What kind of a world do we live in
Where massive amounts of industrial and human energy
Are expended churning out fake plastic flowers ?
I find myself asking the question more and more often these days :
What if we were wrong ?
What if we were wrong about nearly everything ?
What if there was another way to live ?
A way to live with no plastics strangling our oceans,
No petroleum causing wars, no guns, no money,
No cars, no television, no movies,
No computers to send thoughts like this around the world,
No nuclear anything, no jets screaming across the skies,
No greed, no hate, no tribes bashing each others brains out,
No religions causing only divisions,
While the human race knows only endless multiplication
Subtracting intelligence from the idiocy of infinite addition
A way to live with none of this madness we wallow in today
What if there were another way ?
What if we were wrong ?
What if we were just going through the motions
Because someone told us when we were little
That this was how it had to be ?
What if we were wrong ?
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(Perhaps a subconscious tribute, it occurred to me later, to "Imagine" from Mr Lennon ? Nothing new under the sun . . .)
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Stone Memories . . .

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Well, I suppose I really did have my head in the clouds. Someone broke the chain fairly early on, and the hoped for millions of page hits did not materialize. Sigh. :-)
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Back to the drawing board. Or more precisely, back to the light table, and the editing of photographs taken over the years. Here are a few more from Florence, Italy, in the San Miniato al Monte Cemetery. Shared with you with all my heart.
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Memories in stone
Darkened by soot
Locked in rust
An angel's love
An infant's trust
Broken dreams
A fading photograph
An eternal smile
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