Spring in Paris

After spending a memorable evening at Palais Garnier, we woke up the next morning to brilliant sunlight.

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A Night at Palais Garnier, Paris

If you’ve read my post about one dark and stormy night (with a delish chocolate hazelnut cake), you would know that I’d been trying to see Marc Chagall’s paintings in person for years without much success. So when I heard that the Russian-born artist of Belarusian Jewish origin painted the ceiling of the famous opera house in Paris, and that Juan Diego Flórez – a Peruvian tenor who received his country’s highest decoration at the age of 31 – would be performing a recital at Palais Garnier during the time of our visit, I did not waste any time in acquiring a ticket.


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Encore Paris

“This is what you do on your very first day in Paris. You get yourself, not a drizzle, but some honest-to-goodness rain, and you find yourself someone really nice and drive her through the Bois de Boulogne in a taxi. The rain’s very important. That’s when Paris smells its sweetest. It’s the damp chestnut trees.” – I can almost hear Audrey Hepburn saying those words in her 1954 film Sabrina.

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Hiking: Artist Point Snowshoe

The road for the last stretch of the Mt. Baker Highway was completely clear.  The sun had been shining for the past two days. With avalanche danger being low, Monday was a perfect day to head up to Artist Point.

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Rouen, France

“It was a beautiful summer morning. Silver gleamed in the windows of the gold and silver smith, and the light that fell obliquely on the cathedral shimmered in the cracks of the grey stones. A flock of birds circled in the blue sky around the trefoils pinnacle turrets.”


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Bald Eagles on Skagit River

For my part, I wish the eagle had not been chosen as the representative of this country. He is a bird of bad moral character; he does not get his living honestly.”
— Benjamin Franklin


Two weekends ago, I went to see our National Bird.
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Foliage Season in Kyoto – Day 5

We went to Andrew Wyeth exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum last week. Mr. Wyeth lived his whole life between Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania and coastal Maine, where he painted prodigiously, of the landscape and a small cast of people, for almost seven decades. Instead of painting “the object as it is in nature”, his works reflect the “mood of a thing rather than the truth”.
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