Fwd: French Art

From the USA, hence "gas" rather than petrol Price of gas in France A thief in Paris planned to steal some Paintings from the Louvre. After careful planning, he got past security, stole the paintings, and made it safely to his van. However, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas. When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied, 'Monsieur, that is the reason I stole the paintings.' I had no Monet To buy Degas To make the Van Gogh.' See if you have De Gaulle to send this on to someone else. I sent it to you because I figured I had nothing Toulouse ...... --- = --

Fwd: Gwelliant ??

WOMEN WHO KNOW THEIR PLACE Barbara Walters, of 20/20, did a story on gender roles in Kabul, Afghanistan, several years before the Afghan conflict. She noted that women customarily walked five paces behind their husbands. She recently returned to Kabul and observed that women still walk behind their husbands. Despite the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime, the women now seem happy to maintain the old custom. Ms Walters approached one of the Afghani women and asked, 'Why do you now seem happy with an old custom that you once tried so desperately to change?' The woman looked Ms Walters straight in the eyes, and without hesitation said, "Land mines." Moral of the story is (no matter what language you speak or where you go): BEHIND EVERY MAN, THERE'S A SMART WOMAN

Fwd: Des produits originaux pour soutenir la bonne cause !

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European Community

First we had the Celtic European community then there was the Roman European community followed by the German European community; The Germans split into 3: England; France and the Holy Roman Empire; there was much movement and interchange, particularly between the former 2 until they settled into autonomous independent states. Not satisfied with what they had, they each had a dream of creating a world in its own image with their benevolent god kings, so there was an English world, a French world and a German world, and each one saw it as its duty that the true word be spread and that their malevolent rivals the big bad wolves be stopped in their gluttonous ways, wars ensued but civilization would win out in the end; unfortunately they were each mirror images of the other. One day one of them went too far so the others got together and put an end to its evil ways with the result we are back to an ever expanding version of European Community no. 3, the god kings have in the main been brushed away to be replaced by committees, the irony being that the chief international exponent of committees, Cymru/Wales, there right through the whole process from beginning to end has not been asked to the table, access denied. European from the beginning, subsumed by England, the door is no longer locked, only on the latch, with an effort it can be opened but have we the will and the strength left. 

Sadorn/Sadwrn/Saturday/Samedi

The alarm rang at 6.30 a.m., I dressed, ate breakfast, ablutions done, had a look around to see that nothing was being left behind, stuck a few bottles of non-alcoholic beer into a bag in case of thirst, my being diabetic I am often thirsty, then went to fetch my hand truck so that I needn't leave my photos at morning's end to fetch my car, unfortunately a tyre was punctured, I took it anyway; once there I set up my tables, and as soon as this was done I sold three to an artist who bought them with the intention of sketching copies to sell on his market stall. Mid morning I had to go to a nearby bar for a large café au lait to ward off the cold, I also took photos of an adjacent narrow uphill alley with steps and old fashioned lamps. At mid-day I packed up, folded everything and placed them on the truck to try it but they were too heavy and risked ripping the tyre, so I left them, got the car, drove back and put everything inside in the normal way and headed towards Landerne)au where concerts were to take place beginning at 2.30am. These were to be a foretaste of the popular 'Kann al Loar' festival held every July. I thought they might be taking place in the centre, but as they weren't I enquired at the local tourist office who directed me to the 'Espace Culturel' at the Landerne)au branch of 'Centre Leclerc,' a large supermarket chain and the first in France to take on the concept. Another concept unusual for supermarkets is to put on concerts, one walks in as though a normal customer to buy goods, it is an autonomous branch within a branch, there's no fruit & veg, it's media centred, look for the concert and sit down in a corner of the store. After one false turn I found the venue and a very comfortable leather armchair from which I enjoyed a harp recital by Ysa Harpiste from Saint Thegonnec. At one time she sold music and then decided to step up and play it, the fact that she doesn't read what she plays, she very successfully does it by ear, didn't put her off, nor the Beatles, she turned to Olga Bystram from Brest to teach her how to sing & play with surprising results. I was glad that she came and had a chat with me. Towards the end of her recital I espied Lleuwen & Vincent bringing in their instruments ready for the second concert, we greeted each other, friends as we are, Katell & Maelwen came along, as did Tangi & Klervi, then Lan before they went on stage, Vincent with his revolutionary double bass contributing to a one off blues style. After each concert the musicians were interviewed, Katell translated into French what Lleuwen said in Breton. I said hello to Nolwenn Korbell before she went on stage, I've known her for years and she's a big friend of Lleuwen's, deservingly very popular in Brittany as she went on to prove to us. Her mother is the famous Breton singer Andrea ar Gouilh. Besides her musicians she was with a tall slim youth who I took to be her son from his resemblance to the Prifardd Twm Morys, he has a hard road to follow, his music & writing genes are formidable, his paternal grandmother; alpinist, travel writer, journalist - Jan Morris -  one of the best prose writers in the English language, his father a poet of the highest level in Cymraeg/Welsh, both his mother & maternal grandmother forces in the survival of Breton culture. Concerts, interviews and photoshoots terminated we left, another false turn and Lleuwen Steffan, Vincent Guerin and myself met at the Keltia bar, our favourite pub in Landerne)au situated on one of the only 4 bridges in Europe supporting inhabited housing, with us were Lleuwen's partner Lan Tangi, Tangi Thomin and Klervi N'Intañvez;  after 2 drinks we separated and about 8 o'clock we drove back to our respective houses. Getting into my car I switched on the radio only having missed 8 minutes of the Man Utd v Barcelona match, arrived in Plouie/Plouye at half time, switched on the telly to watch some mesmerizing football, unfortunately it was the other team, not that it matters, I've been a Barcelona fan for longer than I've supported Man Utd, but Utd have Giggs. After the match I turned the telly around on its turntable facing my bed and with the Mabinogion in hand I climbed into bed and read the source stories of medieval romantic literature untill I fell asleep.

Searching for Myrddin/Merlin

I've been reading so much about Myrddin/Merlin recently I thought I'd go and pay him a vist in the enchanted forest of Broceliande but Nimue/Viviane wouldn't let him out. I started my journey late because I couldn't and didn't find an important key, never mind I'd made my mind up to go. I drove straight to Sant Meven/Saint Méen, having driven through there once previously I 'd noticed a multiplicity of towers that intrigued me so I added it to my itinerary, this set me back; however when I got to my targeted destination, the Chateau de Comper, it was closing day wednesday; I drove around to Merlin's tomb and Viviane's fountain then on through Paimpont to take some photos of the castle in Josselin before nightfall, bypassing some interesting stuff on the way, enough to want to go back next time I'm able to fill up my petrol tank, too late, it was still light when I arrived and parked my car, I hurriedly walked down to the river, but by the time I got there the light had turned, all the same I took a few photos; I made my way slowly, no hurry now, back up to my car stopping off at a bar to quench my thirst with a quality beer from the local micro-brewery, Brittany's second after Coreff in date of establishment. Its founding owner/brewer by a magical coincidence, not a reincarnated medieval knight, but a more mundane Monsieur Bernard Lancelot, giving it the name 'Brasserie Lancelot' which fits in perfectly with the regional ambiance even if it is just outside the forest perimeter. Before leaving my house I'd prepared all my maps only to leave them on the settee, so I asked directions from the only customer and headed back to Plouie/Plouye. As I was approaching Loudeac I thought I'd take a detour through the town centre when my Arthurian dreams of castles, Merlin/Myrdddin, Viviane/Nimue and the romance of the middle ages came to an abrupt end when at 11.15 pm I was pulled over by two members of the local force for peace who checked my papers and had me blow into a breathalyser, no result and nothing out of order, after a couple of questions  intersperced with the saxon tongue, I told them I was Welsh, they then very politely let me go on my way.

Day's Diary

Looked up my a/c, wrote 3 cheques, took my sealed envelopes to the post office to buy stamps before posting them, local jeweller was there so I got a second opinion on my ruby, o.k., got it, now I have to cross my fingers that the money  arrives in time to avoid inconveniences; whether it's to Beli, Mithras, Christ, Mahomet or Buddha, I believe that the selfish use of prayers as with sportsmen is pushing it too far, whatever it is. I poured enough petrol into the car's tank to move the gauge needle off red for the moment to enable me to drive down to Kastellin/Chateaulin and hand in my week late rent money; whilst there I bought a beer to quench my thirst under the sun next to the Aôn/Aulne. On the way back I stopped at the river/canal further on, visited a chapel, a sign of the times that very few of them have their doors unlocked, then drove home early to get some food into the fridge, and here I am.

My Olympic Dream

Next on the agenda, The Olympic Games, perhaps it's time to re-organize them; Rorke's Drift is in the past, its Union Flag  quasi redundant and generally defunct, Great Britain never was a Country so there's no need for museum pieces flying from flagpoles. Erin/Ireland would be one, as in the 6 Nations rugby tournament, England, Alba/Scotland and Cymru/Wales likewise, bringing them in line with world cups & championships. There would be a problem with the French separating Ile de France from its historical countries and overseas dependencies, then there would be Africa with its multinational states such as Nigeria, and colonies over-riding national borders sometimes having one country in two states, 'though this is also a European problem as with the Basques, Catalans, Irish, etc., submerged kingdoms like Buganda, and Somalia split, as is Guyane/Guiana in South America where we also have Patagonia divided between Argentina & Chile. We have the not insurmountable Israeli-Palestinian anomaly, not so India & Pakistan, based as they are on religion pasted over empire. Of course some people would feel deprived when not joining in regularly with the celebrations, but the frisson would be that much stronger seeing one's own flag flying in the event of victory. Time for a change?

Deliberating

Having noticed that the National Anthem of the Ivory Coast is in French and in the knowledge that ours is in our own language of Cymraeg/Welsh, it got me wondering about the symbolism of Anthems in relation to colonial rule and/or independence, and to what extent the chains have been unlinked consciously & subconciously, how far have they liberated themselves; even the Irish & Scots, who have their own languages and Anthems and who make a lot of distancing themselves from England, sing in English. Of course the main problem in Africa is that they aren't historical entities, the boundaries were created by the Empire builders, therefore the respective invader's tongue has become the Lingua Franca, a common denominator as Latin was for us under Rome and there would be problems choosing one tribal language over another as the French did in giving preference to Langue d'Oil over Langue d'Oc and other historical languages. This is what some Irish say:- "The Scots have their whisky the Welsh have their speech, their poets are paid about 10p a week, provided no hard words on England they speak, oh God what a price for devotion." Admittedly we have moved on since that was written. The French don't trust the 'Anglo-Saxon' conspirators, the Christians don't trust the Moslems, the 'of the Left' don't trust the 'of the Right' & vice versa, the Chinese are forming a new world order and are laughing, and we in Cymru/Wales have the pitiable situation where the non-Welsh speakers in the east (north & south) & South Penfro don't trust the 'conspiratorial' Welsh speakers of the west (north & south); there is such a thing as bi-lingualism, there are 10 year old children in the wastes of Africa who speak 6 languages, switching from one to another; monoglot English families move to France and struggle, their children become bi-lingual. The prime objective should be the good of the Country, North & South Wales; East & West. This includes the Welsh Language, or Cymraeg, as we call it, and the reason we call it that is because it is the recognition from the 7th century onwards that we have to stand together; it comes from 'Combrogos', plural 'Combrogi' meaning 'fellow countrymen.

Not too late

Ever wondered why Cymru/Wales with its iron & coal went from rich to poor whilst California with its gold went from rich to richer. One of the very first things the Californians did was to set up a State Legislature and invest in their Country, they fell in love, made love with and caressed their gold. In Cymru we were stripped, raped & robbed, divested of everything of value because the Welsh people didn't have a say; we were belatedly given a Welsh Office in 1965 to administer an empty shell on behalf of a then disinterested British body politic, except that the Labour Party needed our votes and had made promises. It makes one wonder what could have been. This is 2011, we have a Welsh Government and we have our pride, we are starting at zero with nothing to invest except our intellect, there is work to be done and blaming others now belongs to the past. We still need to bypass London if we are to build a strong economy, we want to be where the important decisions are made, on the Continent, not in Europe, we are already in Europe, the Welsh were in Europe before England was a concept. We don't need decisions made for us by our next door neighbours, we want to be in on the decision making where it matters, in Brussels.

Afternoon stroll

I've just come back from a 4 & 1/2 hour circular walk, and three minutes car drive to finish, around the back of my house following our local boundary river, the Ellez, for half of the way; there weren't any public paths so my legs have tingling sensations all over from the stinging due to my having walked in boots & shorts through overgrown fields and wild riverbank. When I set out I envisaged arriving back at 7 o'clock, which I did spot on; I am on my 4th successive book featuring Myrddin/Merlin so his gifts are rubbing off. I will publish the photos anon.

Confident

Diolch/Thank you Julian; let me explain to everyone; there's not much point in my having a fill in job, besides my 60 years of age, my gout and my diabetes, although I am registered as a job seeker, it would be foolishly short term. The plans for the new pub are now in the Mayor's office together with an application for a building permit. I work for at least 12 hours a day on my photos except for my mornings at the markets so that when everything is organized and the pub is reopened I will have a base to retail my photos with printing facilities from a voluminous collection for on site development & sales. I am doing without at the moment so that I can plan a confident future with a second earner, the pub trade not the most auspicious at the moment, especially in the countryside but even in the towns, on both sides of the Channel. My good friends have been helping me to keep my head above water, I hope it won't be too long that I'll be in a position to reciprocate, back behind my bar with my life in my own hands again, controlling my destiny, my feet once again on solid ground instead of floating, although I'll still be driving around taking photos of Brittany, but selling them at my pub shop. There will be a welcome for all smiling faces as is the story of my pub, but a little extra for the good people who've helped me in my hour, of course I realize that many people are not in the position to do so; another hurdle has been leaped, opening day is slowly approaching.

The End of Civilization as we Knew It; Saints on the One Side, Saxons on the Other

An Arthurian trilogy comprising nearly 1500 pages has come into my possession thanks to someone having an inkling of my tastes and generously hoping to satisfy them, I will be eternally grateful. Written by Bernard Cornwell as the 'Warlord Chronicles' (The Winter King', 'Enemy of God' and 'Excalibur), Arthur's story, recounted at the behest of Queen Igraine of Powys by Lord Derfel Cadarn, a war-lord turned monk; he fought with Arthur to hold the incoming Saxon tide that takes place in the final years of the 5th century A.D., whilst remnants of the Druidic religion live on mainly in the person of Merlin appealing to the Gods of Britain to fight back against the new eastern religions, brought to us through Roman rule before the legions left us to fight for ourselves, including Christian fanaticism, Mithraism and even the cult of Isis. Merlin's efforts fell short, Arthur had more success, better than Cnut, but in the long run, rightly or wrongly, the majority of us now take our moral lessons from the Hebraic Scriptures in English.

Magic

I woke up from a dream of closing the pub bringing a concert to an end, picked up 'Excalibur', the last in the 'Warlord Chronicles' trilogy by Bernard Cornwell, to read about Derfel losing a hand in Morgan's magic to serve to save the life of his wife Ceinwyn, put down the book, switched on the television, lighting up the screen were the words "you are still young at 59," says Minister', so I am, but what magic was that; and what a game last night with Swansea City going through to Wembley magically beating Nottingham Forest. Now Cardiff City must win tonight to guarantee Cymru/Wales a promoted team; magic!

'Enemy of God' by Bernard Cornwell, and the rest

Merlin nearly lost his life searching for the Cauldron of Clyddno Eiddyn, but he has recovered the most important of the 13 sacred artefacts he is bringing together to appease the gods and save Britain, the others being simply: a sword; a basket; a horn; a chariot; a halter; a knife; a whetstone; a sleeved coat; a cloak; a dish; a throwboard and a warrior ring. Arthur on the other hand is a more practical man, he has allied the British kingdoms and is raising an army to push the Saxons back to Germany aiming to restore peace to the Island. Considering the story takes place 1500 years ago we know what happened; it worked for a while with many Saxons/Germans returning home during the first half of the 6th century, but alas they both finally failed in their efforts and the gods left Britain forever allowing the incomers to take over, resulting in the largest part of Britain being named 'England', 300 years later they themselves were conquered by invaders from Normandy, who by preserving the name of the Country thereby distorted the telling of history centuries later e.g. English v. French 100 years war. What we don't know is will Byn find the 51,21 euros he needs to stay on the internet? My story continues......

Confidence

Caradog fought the the Romans in vain, Buddug fought back in vain, Arthur fought to repel the Saxons with temporary success, Cadwallon fought to hold the Crown of Britain in vain, Owain Glyndwr fought to realize his dream of a Crown, a Parliament in Machynlleth, 2 universities, a frontier at the Severn & Mersey and independence, in vain; hooray, the Tudors succesfully gave us a Crown, a Parliament in London, a university college, a frontier to Hadrian's Wall, peace and even the beginning of an empire, so what went wrong? Dependence, after the initial celebrations we became totally dependent on an unsympathetic centralized State that threatened to cost us our identity, 'British' began to alter in connotation, after 1707 it changed its meaning completely when the Scots allied themselves formerly with the English to create a new Great Britain. We were saved when sports associations came about during the 19th century and national teams were formed, the Scots wanted to play against 'The Auld Enemy', although not old in our terms, so why shouldn't we pick a Welsh National team, no matter that there was no Welsh nation because we had been completely subsumed into England by Henry VIII with his the Laws in Wales Act of 1535 to 1542. It was a salve to the consciences of those who didn't lift a finger and some who were downright antipathetic to their  Country to openly and rabidly declare their Welshness for 80 or 90 minutes 4 or 5 times a year, and to fly the flag at world championships but not yet the Olympic Games, not in my lifetime anyway. Proud to be Welsh, for 80 minutes! Although confidence in the Country is rising, we can see that with the introduction of primary law making powers for the first time in many centuries. Taliesin said that the Britons will lose their land except Wild Wales, and the Old Man of Pencader stated that the Welsh Language will always answer for our little "cilcyn o ddaear men cilfach gefn", our little corner of the world. 500 years of direct rule from London is not thrown off overnight, it needs patience, but we are moving in the right direction. To wean the Tudorite Kinnocks and George Thomas's of this world from believing in Henry's ideas of the Welsh being better off ruled by outsiders is a huge job, and something has to be done to alleviate their fear of Cymraeg/The Welsh Language. Fe Godwn ni eto.

Arthur, Myrddin/Merlin & the Harp

The harp is the national instrument of Cymru, and until recently every welcoming hearth possessed one. Arthur was the all conquering Welsh hero, he may not have been a king and 'Arthur' may only have been his nom de guerre, but he kept the marauding Germans at bay both in Brittany & Britain (Franks, Angles, Saxons and Jutes),  his victory at Mount Badon earned 50 years of peace and a golden age for the Britons while he lived. What do these people have in common: Alan Stivell; Alison Kinnaird; An Triskell; Ar Lôg; The Barra MacNeils; Cecile Corbel; Chris Newman; Claire Hamilton; Cormac de Barra; Corinna Hewart; Crasdant; Delyth Jenkins; Dominig Bouchaud; Elinor Bennett; Grainne Yeats; Gwenael Kerleo; Gwenola Ropars; Laoise Kelly; Sayo & Sebastien Lipman; Llio Rhydderch; Maire ni Chathasaigh; Meinyr Heulyn; Myrdhin; Rhes Ganol; Rachel Ann Morgan; Robin Huw Bowen; Siân James; Siobhan Owen; Soazig; Violaine Alfaric; Wendy Stewart and Ysbryd Chouchen? They are all playing the harp for me today accompanying my reading of Bernard Cornwall's 'The Winter King', to be followed by 'Enemy of God' & 'Excalibur', 3 volumes of 'The Warlord Chronicles', a high moment of my life that I've unknowingly waited 60 years for, strange how things come together. If I don't read another book I've found what I was looking for, and so has Merlin. Ysa Harpiste is another that would normally be on this list as she is one of a small group, numbering Alan Stivell, An Triskell, Ar Lôg, Elinor Bennett, Gwenael Kerleo, Siân James and Violaine Alfaric whom I've had the pleasure of seeing live, unfortunately she is not in my collection. Ah, my senses are touching on the sublime. The past is but a thread to the present & the future, not to be sat upon, but that's a mixed metaphor.

Being Welsh

Don't forget the mindset that goes with being Welsh, once having ruled Britain, having fought the Romans and the Anglo-Saxons, the Normans conquered the Principality i.e.the north & the west, built towns for the English, of which Caernarfon was the largest, took away our citizens rights, whilst in the southern Marches we were autonomous under the Breton & Norman Lords where the King was not allowed to interfere. When Rhys ap Thomas after a thousand years of non stop warring, don't forget that Ireland & Scotland didn't have this history, placed the crown on the head of Henry Tudor we thought it was all over, one of his first acts was to return Cymru to normality, everyone who was anyone in Cymru moved to London, he repealed the anti Welsh laws, put the Red Dragon on the Royal Coat of Arms, he named his first son Arthur to realize at last the prophesies of old; Arthur, Owain Lawgoch, Owain Glyndwr, Henry himself, and finally Arthur of the Britons (Welsh) on the throne of Britain, unfortunately he died young and the throne was passed to Arthur's younger brother Henry VIII who 'for the betterment of the Welsh' took the Country by the scruff, abolished the Marches, united them with the Principality, losing some important parts of the border territory, created a Wales of Shires administered by English law absorbed by England, his sister, aware of her background, built a new Welsh university in Oxford, Wales had taken over England completely but on England's terms, Welsh gentlemen counselling the Queen were transformed into English gentlemen, Seisyllt became Cecil, Welsh Britishness was transmogrified into English Britishness, Welsh British heroes of old became English British heroes of old. When the Stuarts took over, the Red Dragon was taken off the coat of arms and that was that for Cymru until the romantic movement of the late 18th & 19th centuries touched the consciences of the London Welsh exiles who established societies such as the Gwyneddogion and the Cymreigyddion to restore a sense of pride that had been lying dormant, There was a new awareness that something of value had been lost, Cymru was waking up from a 300 years sleep. National institutions were created but the Capital was London. Welsh had been banned in the schools and although it was still the first language of the majority, parents were persuaded the futility of handing it on to their children if they wanted them to get on. Workers were fighting a war of solidarity, political parties & trades unions were founded, Lloyd George created an all Welsh movement but when they met, the South Walians of Newport & Cardiff didn't want to know. Welsh Nationalists who joined the British parties were either voted out or were lost to ambition. A National Party was needed that put Cymru first and Britain second,   so Plaid Genedlaethol was formed, not an easy job in the wake of the First World War and still not an easy job today. A country with a 2000 years plus history can afford to be patient, we have the responsibility of the language, the Scots don't, rightly or wrongly the people in Glasgow & Aberdeen are not afraid of having Gaelic rammed down their throats the way they are afraid of Welsh in Rhyl, Wrecsam, Haverfordwest & Monmouth, and even Ebbw Vale & Merthyr come to that, the oil if there's any left may still be an added incentive. The first million pound cheque was signed in Cardiff but there's no money any more, its all been siphoned off. We have to stay with it, history is on our side and no matter the temporary setback today May 6, 2011. We may not be on a roll but we have the impetus.

Arthur sleeps on

Arthur sleeps on; Labour can thank its post war government with Aneurin Bevan's NHS, rehousing, new factories and nationalizing the mines, and fear of the Tory party; people forget the nepotism & corruption when they became the establishment party attracting all & sundry to their bandwagon. Safe in the knowledge that they were unseatable a blind eye was turned to Cymru/Wales for over 50 years, and the abiding mantra was 'what can I get out of it', worse, we lost our valleys to English reservoirs, our heritage was forgotten and our children were killed, with their most shameful episode, Harold Wilson dipping in to the Aberfan fund, money that came from all over the world to better the life of the survivors, to pay for the clearing of the remaining tips. Labour is the enemy within, Conservative the enemy without. Fear has handed back unfettered control to 'our' party who's strongest point has never been principle & scruples. Cymru will have to wait while she once again gets put on the backburner. Scotland is marching on but they didn't have the same fear of losing their socialist heitage. Fe godwn ni eto.

Plea

This is a plea for 964,72 euros to stop my electricity being cut off on May 9

Reflexions

To put it succinctly; The positive aspects of my life outweigh the negative ones heavy though they are. Life isn't meant to be easy and doesn't owe anybody anything but the horizon promises me better things to come; this is my sixtieth year, my second of fettered freedom, I could have been a prisoner of an office, factory or mine, I wasn't, and anyway I'm a believer in destiny. Most people would be planning retirement, I am planning going back to my regular job. I have always taken the good with the bad and the help from my friends sustaining me until I get back on my feet does not go amiss, for that I am very grateful, it will enable me eventually to reciprocate from a position of strength, when the storm clouds will be blown away and music will once more be heard in Ty Elise. These were never meant to be sob stories, I can't dwell on the bad when the quality of my life works against it, they are meant to be snapshot updates so that my friends can see exactly where & how I stand at any given moment, I report the downs which can be serious, but I also report the ups which paradoxically I wouldn't have but for the roots of the latter, fortunately they are more numerous, in other words although it rains a lot the sun shines longer and brighter. I have lived in Breizh/Brittany for a greater period than I did in Cymru/Wales but outside of books, conversation & music, my knowledge of the Country was limited, yet I know Cymru inside out, I have a lot of catching up to do and when finances allow I go off the main road with my camera to try and capture the essence of Ma Breizh/Fy Llydaw/Ma Bretagne/My Brittany, to share this glorious Country with you. Hope some of you appreciate my efforts.

Sponsorship Required

 I publish a lot of photos, they don't come free, it costs 30 euros for a weeks petrol to get around, it used to be 60 euros when I began in earnest; if I want to try and sell them it costs 50 euros for an evening's ink, my money has to go towards food, ironically I have a taste for cheese and yoghurt which I never used to like and now miss when I can't afford them, otherwise I manage alright on rice, tomatoes, onions, ham or chicken or sausages, and breakfast cereal, and when I run out I've got a store of pasta, but I need sponsorship if I am to carry on with my photos and eat.