Another Cemetery Stroll. . .

As you may have read in below posts, I was out yesterday afternoon poking around in Saint Leu d'Esserent, and no visit to a village in France would be complete without a stop in the cemetery to see what kind of energy is in the air. . . and as is nearly always the case, I was not disappointed with the detour there.
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The white ceramic layer which had a name and message printed in it had just about come clear off this rusting heart, leaving no legible trace of the life commemorated here. . . so whoever you were, wherever your soul may have gotten to over the intervening years, I send this heart to you, that you may know a thought came your way today. . .
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I'm not sure what happened here, this Christ had come down off his cross and was wired out in the sun. . .
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What was the title of the Mississippi John Hurt/Lucinda Williams song that Jerry Garcia played with David Grisman on an album they did together : "Angels laid him away" ? Give me rusting metal in a graveyard in the afternoon sun, and I'm getting close to heaven. . .
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Basilica of Saint Leu d'Esserent. . .

As mentioned in a couple of posts earlier today, I was walking in Saint Leu d'Esserent looking for Jim Morrison's ghost. No trip to St Leu would be complete without hiking up the hill to the ancient basilica. . . you can see what a beautiful afternoon it was. Quite a ways further down in these pages I posted two black & white photos of sculpture details from the middle ages, two tongued figures. I had totally forgotten where those photos had been taken, but visiting the St Leu basilica today I saw those sculptures again, thus remembering where the photos had come from. And here are a few more in color in the same vein. . . this is what I love about living in France. . . heading out for a late afternoon walk. . . and finding oneself immersed in history a thousand years old.

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Scatological Reporting. . .

Between the Hotel de l'Oise where Jim Morrison stopped for a beer a few days before he died, and the abandoned industrial building illustrated just below here, there was also an abandoned house with inviting doors and windows gaping wide open, so naturally I went in for a look around. The place had all the modern trappings of the typical abandoned house : the hideous wallpaper peeling over an ancient upholstered chair, the enigmatic fuse box with three circles, and last, but not least, the wrecked toilet which will never again serve its intended purpose. . . pardon my scatological reporting. . .
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