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Beautiful professional model, Candice Boucher, photographed by Warwick Saint


































"Parler à mon père" (meaning "Talk to My Father") is a song recorded by Canadian singer Celine Dion, released as the lead single from her French-language album Sans attendre (2012). It was written by Jacques Veneruso, and produced by Veneruso and Patrick Hampartzoumian. "Parler à mon père" is a pop song about Dion's father who died in 2003.

Even though this song came out in 2012, I heard it for the first time today and was very touched by not only the music but the moving lyrics. Below is one English translation (better in the original French but don't have time to come up with a better translation myself at this time.) A beautiful song despite of it's pop origins.


Talk To My Father

I would like to forget the time
For a sigh for an instant
A parenthesis after the race
And depart where my heart pushes me

I would like to find again my traces
Where is my life where is my place
And keep* the gold of my past
In the warmness of my secret garden

I would like to pass the ocean, cruise the flight of a gull
Think of all this I have seen and go as well to the unknown
I would like to take down the moon, I would as well like to save the Earth
But before everything else I would like to talk to my father
Talk to my father..

I would like to choose a ship
Neither the biggest one nor the most beautiful one
I would fill it up with images
And with perfumes of my trips

I would like to slow down to take a seat
To find at the hollow of my memory
Voices of those people who taught me
That there is no forbidden dream

I would like to find the colours, the paintings that I have inside my heart
Of this decoration in pure lines, where I see you and I reassure myself
I would like to take down the moon, I would as well like to save the Earth
But before everything else I would like to talk to my father
Talk to my father..

I would like to forget the time
For a sigh for an instant
A parenthesis after the race
And depart where my heart pushes me

I would like to find again my traces
Where is my life where is my place
And keep* the gold of my past
In the warmness of my secret garden

I would like to depart with you
I would like to dream with you
To always search for the inaccessible
To always hope for the impossible
I would like to take down the moon
and why not saving the Earth?
But before everything else I would like to talk to my father
Talk to my father..
I would like to talk to my father
Talk to my father..

































"Parler À Mon Père"

Je voudrais oublier le temps
Pour un soupir, pour un instant,
Une parenthèse après la course,
Et partir où mon cœur me pousse.
Je voudrais retrouver mes traces
Où est ma vie, où est ma place,
Et garder l'or de mon passé
Au chaud dans mon jardin secret.

Je voudrais passer l'océan,
Croiser le vol d'un goéland,
Penser à tout ce que j'ai vu,
Ou bien aller vers l'inconnu.
Je voudrais décrocher la lune,
Je voudrais même sauver la Terre
Mais avant tout
Je voudrais parler à mon père,
Parler à mon père.

Je voudrais choisir un bateau,
Pas le plus grand ni le plus beau,
Je le remplirais des images
Et des parfums de mes voyages.
Je voudrais freiner pour m'asseoir,
Trouver au creux de ma mémoire
Des voix de ceux qui m'ont appris
Qu'il n'y a pas de rêve interdit.

Je voudrais trouver les couleurs,
Des tableaux que j'ai dans le cœur,
De ce décor aux lignes pures,
Où je vous vois et me rassure.
Je voudrais décrocher la lune,
Je voudrais même sauver la Terre,
Mais avant tout,
Je voudrais parler à mon père,
Parler à mon père.

Je voudrais oublier le temps
Pour un soupir, pour un instant,
Une parenthèse après la course,
Et partir où mon cœur me pousse.
Je voudrais retrouver mes traces
Où est ma vie, où est ma place,
Et garder l'or de mon passé
Au chaud dans mon jardin secret.

Je voudrais partir avec toi,
Je voudrais rêver avec toi,
Toujours chercher l'inaccessible,
Toujours espérer l'impossible,
Je voudrais décrocher la lune,
Et pourquoi pas sauver la Terre,
Mais avant tout
Je voudrais parler à mon père
Parler à mon père
Je voudrais parler à mon père
Parler à mon père.

Song written by Jacques Veneruso, and produced by Veneruso and Patrick Hampartzoumian




































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Beautiful photo blog; thanks for sharing your photography here, Rob :)




























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Photo: Paris by Elliott Erwin




























Photo by Aubrey Bodine



























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The beauty and grandeur of nature in Norway beautifully presented here.


"This is a time-lapse video resulting from a 15,000 km (almost 10,000 miles) long road trip and tens of thousands of images taken along the way over the last 5 months. The journey has covered all of Norway’s 19 counties, from the far south to the Russian border in the Northeast.
The Aim of this 5 minute short film is to show the variety of Norway, everything from the deep fjords in the Southwest, to the moon landscape in the North, the Aurora Borealis (Nothern Lights) and the settlements and cities around the country, both in summer and wintertime. The video shows some of the most scenic places in Norway, such as Lofoten, Senja, Helgelandskysten, Geirangerfjorden, Nærøyfjorden and Preikestolen.
If you are interested in reading the tales, seeing behind-the-scenes photos from the journey and a map of the route driven, head over to rustadmedia.com
The soundtrack is custom-made for this film by the very talented fellow Norwegian Jogeir Daae Mæland."







































A long time favorite, which I had a hard time locating in the days of vinyl records, when shopping with my Mom. She knew the name of the piece, the orchestra and conductor she wanted but could only remember that the composer's name was something like baloney or salami! I teased her about it for years to come and good sport that she was, she always got a big laugh when I did. Thanks to Brian, who still has one of the most interesting and beautiful blogs anywhere!































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Crazy

I remember when,
I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so special about that place
Even your emotions have an echo in so much space

And when you're out there without care
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly

And I hope that you are
Having the time of your life
But think twice
That's my only advice

Come on now, who do you
Who do you, who do you, who do you think you are?
Ha ha ha, bless your soul
You really think you're in control?

Well, I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me

My heroes had the heart
To live their lives out on a limb
And all I remember
Is thinking, I want to be like them

Ever since I was little
Ever since I was little
It looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

But maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably
ouh ouh crazy

Lyrics - Songwriters
CALLAWAY, THOMAS / BURTON, BRIAN JOSEPH / REVERBERI, GIANFRANCO / REVERBERI, GIAN PIERO

Published by
Lyrics © Warner/CHAPPELL MUSIC, INC., UNIVERSAL MUSIC PUBLISHING GROUP





















































I was so sad to hear the news of Robin Williams' death today. He brought much laughter to so many of us throughout the world, a talented actor and comedian...husband and father...sensitive human being. May he rest in peace and his family find comfort in the passage of time and warmth of their loving memories.

I always got a kick out of this routine about the French even though I'm a French national...I've always found it to be hilarious. He will be missed yet remembered always.





























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Marcel Pagnol was a beloved author/playwright from Marseille who captured the Southern temperament, warmth, humor and spirit of this region of France. Being born and raised there, I have always had a deep love and respect for the man and his work.

The remake of this classic work looks to have all the charm and humor of the original which was directed by Pagnol, himself. I look forward to seeing it!



















































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Photo by Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times










Also appetizing....Cooking NYTimes ~ Thin and Crisp Chocolate Chip Cookies







































































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Got this funny story from YA...gave me a good laugh! The orangutang has nothing to do with YA or the story but he gives a good smile too...I have a soft spot for the apes, especially those guys and baby chimps....





WHERE ARE MY GLASSES?

Yesterday my daughter e-mailed me again asking why I didn't do
something useful with my time.

Like sitting around the pool and drinking wine is not a good thing.
Talking about my "doing something useful" seems to be her favorite
topic of conversation.

She was "only thinking of me" and suggested I go down to the senior
center and hang out with the guys.

I did this and when I got home last night I decided to teach her a
lesson about staying out of my business.

I e-mailed her and told her that I had joined a parachute club.
She replied, "Are you nuts? You are 73 years old, and now you're going
to start jumping out of airplanes?"

I told her that I even got a membership card and e-mailed a copy to her.
She immediately telephoned me, "Good grief, where are your glasses!

This is a membership to a Prostitute Club, not a Parachute Club."
"Oh man, I'm in trouble... now what do I do? I signed up for five jumps a week."





























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Sculpture by Bruno Catalano, in Marseille, France (my hometown) from his The Immigrants series. Interesting website with more of his work.








































April 24,1915


Armenian song of the "Homeless" in Armenian, "Andouni" performed by Isabel Bayrakdarian
































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Shifting the Sun

by Diana Der-Hovanessian


When your father dies, say the Irish,
you lose your umbrella against bad weather.
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the Welsh,
you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the Canadians,
you run out of excuses. May you inherit
his sun, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the French,
you become your own father.
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the Indians,
he comes back as the thunder.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the Russians,
he takes your childhood with him.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the English,
you join his club you vowed you wouldn't.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the Armenians,
your sun shifts forever.
And you walk in his light.



















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March 25, 2014

My precious beloved Father, Megherditch Hatsakortziantz, passed away peacefully last night. God bless him for the good he did for many all his life, he had a good heart and was a generous warm soul...for being an outstanding father to me. Instilling in me a love for people, love of music of all genres, love of travel, love, respect and appreciation for my Armenian roots...keeping my languages alive by forbidding me to speak English at home, sending me to France every year to maintain my love and ties for family, heritage...and making me feel feel like his beloved little Princess even when I was a grown up married woman with my own child and beyond. A beloved grandfather to my son, for whom there was no one in this whole wide world more special. Merci de tout coeur, Papa. My sun has shifted. May I now walk in his light...















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The Chosen Ones - Trailer, 4 min from Bars Media on Vimeo.














THE CHOSEN ONES

Mikhail, in his 80's, has buried himself alive in the tons of garbage that he has gathered during the last 15 years. Mariam is in her 50's, but looks like she is in her 70's, and depends completely on antidepressants. Anahit, in her 60's, lives in an empty apartment with the souls of her 8 children and husband.

The Chosen Ones tells the story of old and lonely people, who at the end of their lives decided to fight against their despair and hopelessness through the dance and through new friendship.
In a country where there is no social life for seniors, these group of people are brave enough to go against the mainstream and even against the inevitable. Every day these people prove through their performance that they still have dreams of love, hopes for the future, and can amaze audience with their spirits. The film shows that even a life spent in hardship is worth living until the last minute!

























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