Sprague Lake was loaded with vacationers in July,
noisily hiking along the path, but when we climbed a short
way over a rise it was quiet and solitary. Here’s a view
to the northwest.
I checked out this renowned cafe
because Jim Morrison (oui, I’m a big
fan) spent his last days here, writing
and, no doubt, drinking. I expect
many more luminaries did the same.
I, for what little it is worth, did not
feel at all at home here– alas, I’m
not a cafe-lounging guy.
I borrow some nice
shades of gray markers
from my daughter to
sketch this ElvisCostellian.
…On an island in the Seine- a beautiful summer evening….
Djypsy Djazz!
Antiquarians such as myself love this
sort of place—an oasis of medevial
carving, tapestries, armor and jewelry
tucked into a buzzing commercial
neighborhood.
I treated myself to some colored pencils
in this city of art and sketched our beloved
and reviled monkey.
