|View from my Paris window|
By the time we returned from a marvelous group dinner Thursday, I'd taken packing as far as it could until just before departure Friday morning, and I had downloaded 173 photos taken during the day, I looked at my watch. Midnight. I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m., thought "blog?" and said, "Nyah!"
I said I wasn't going to shop, that I'm not here to shop, I'm not a shopper. There are dedicated shoppers among us, but I said it again. Not shopping. Everyone wanted to go first to the vendors' building at Quilt en Sud for the quilt show. Except me.
I was somewhat, although not massively, misinformed. I didn't buy a lot, one was spur-of-the-moment and the other as a result of some deliberation. But more on that later. Definitely shopped.
|Foggy morning, we start with heavy drizzle.|
|We're waiting in line for opening.|
|Coat of Arms and Show logo|
|Cuban Artist Mayra Alpizar has an eclectic exhibit |
on the theme "of the woman."
I wandered about looking for all the venues between HQ and our hotel, taking all those pictures. I left packages and camera in my room to step next door to the Salon de Thé (tea) for lunch and wished I'd brought the camera. I ordered a croque monsieur, the French version of a toasted ham and cheese sandwich, with an accompanying salad. Blogger Nina Camic talks about fresh and honest foods. I don't know whether fresh and honest applies to ham and cheese sandwiches, but this one was. I had my first croque monsieur ever several years ago at a brasserie in the 16th, prepared in a standardized manner but very tasty. You know how you have a new dish sometimes, then expect to find some similarity in taste when you order it at another place ... and it doesn't? Now you're on a quest to duplicate the good experience but must run through fine, okay, and truly awful along the way. Croque monsieurs. Kung pao chicken at the Chinese in Mission Valley. Don Pedro's chimichangas. Nick's chicken enchiladas.
|Steen Hougs Working together for the first time at this show with his wife,|
|This is large piece of work|
L'Acanthe is located almost across the street from store where the thin French beach towels are being sold. The colors remind me of Guatemalan weaves. I'd been thinking about them since I saw them in the store the day. They're thin for carrying, but adequate to keep the sand off (not that I actually like to sit in the vicinity of sand). Maybe such a lovely towel would encourage me to go to water aerobics when I get home? They're light enough and small enough to in a suitcase. I can't choose between the colors, brights, naturals, sophisticated black and white (the bathing suit I've ordered from Land's End must surely be black. Or is it?). I find the towel is lined with a light weight terry cloth. There is a velcro-closed pocket. There are fringes. It can be used as a sarong, long or low. And it can be used as a light cover while I take a short nap instead of heading out to any more quilt show venues. I have, after all, seen some beautiful contemporary quilts and other needlecrafts and I can only absorb so much.
There you have it. A shopping spree. Once I start a spree I can barely control it.
"French Patchwork" features primarily Japanese and French artists:
Maryanne Cresson, weird and whimsical:
Very small pieces embroidered by Pascal Jaouen:
* About 120 of the pictures I took are of the quilts per se. A few are included here. Perhaps more later.
See you as soon as ...