Eleven O’Clock
On 11 November most French communes stop for a wreath, a short speech and a roll call of the local dead. Then everyone goes home for lunch. I have stood at the other end of it, and I have been thinking about it since Normandy.
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The letter: October
October was supposed to be the quiet month before November. Instead there was a funeral in Brittany, the camera I learnt on in 1987 bought back for fifteen euros, and a day lost to working out what is actually happening in France.
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The first letter
A couple of hundred people signed up to hear from me and I sent them almost nothing, because I could never work out what a newsletter from me was supposed to be. I think I’ve got it now. Here’s the first one, published so you can see what you’d be getting.
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Utah Beach, and the road to Strasbourg
Last of three, and the one that surprised me. I went to Utah expecting the American story and came away with a French one, and I didn’t work that out until I got the pictures on a screen and started reading the writing on things. Two armies, two months apart, same sand.
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Sainte-Mère-Église
Forty minutes up the road from Pointe du Hoc, and a completely different kind of remembering. At Pointe du Hoc it’s in the ground. Here it’s on the houses, on the church, in the street names — and on a black plaque outside somebody’s front door that took me a while to properly read.
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Pointe du Hoc
Back to Normandy after seven years, and this time west into the Manche. I got out of the car at Pointe du Hoc at twenty to four and back into it at Utah just after seven. This is the first of three posts from that one afternoon — craters, concrete, and about six hundred thousand other visitors a year.
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Normandy, 1944 — All Sixteen
Two trips, seven years apart, and I only worked out this week that they were ever the same project. Sixteen photographs between Pegasus Bridge and Utah Beach, all in black and white now, all live in the shop.
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The Merville Battery
I went to the Merville Battery in August 2019, between Pegasus Bridge in the morning and the war cemetery at Ranville in the afternoon. I wrote about both of those and never wrote about this, and the photographs sat on a disk for seven years. This is the part of that day I had let go of.
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Haven’t Forgotten About You
I know it’s been quiet here, but that’s just the natural rhythm of accumulating material before bothering to process it properly. Jardin Extraordinaire, Voyage à Nantes, a zoo visit, and Normandy have all given me photographs and notes. New posts are coming soon.
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A Pilgrimage to Mont Saint Michel: A Journey of Faith and Endurance
Embarking on a nostalgic pilgrimage to Mont St. Michel, I overcame physical challenges with unwavering determination. Praying amidst the breathtaking scenery, I found solace and witnessed a divine encounter. Despite exhaustion, the spiritual rewards far surpassed the trials, showcasing the power of faith and the human spirit. This journey left a profound and lasting impression.
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Honfleur, Daytime
I’ve been trying to “find myself” lately as far as photography goes. Different editing techniques instead of always doing black and white. Maybe it’s time to get back…
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Honfleur at night
Honfleur, a picturesque town in Normandy, is the birthplace of composer Erik Satie. Its charm attracts Parisians and art lovers, with galleries and a connection to renowned painters. The town offers culinary delights like Camembert and Calvados. A peaceful night stroll around the old harbor provided an opportunity for photography, showcasing Honfleur’s beauty.
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