Lady Of The Shroud

A very old work

As I was looking for some files on my computer, look what I found: it is a school work of 2008. We had to illustrate a tale by Kveta Pacovska, Es war einmal eine Blume. It is impressive to look back on older works! Quite lame illustrations but it is so great to see at last that you have improved (maybe not so much I do not know now) in composition, drawing technics and the use of colours. Maybe I should not look at those illustrations while I am working on my book project...

The Raven and The Fox

Perch'd on a lofty oak,

Sir Raven held a lunch of cheese;

Sir Fox, who smelt it in the breeze,

Thus to the holder spoke:─

"Ha! how do you do, Sir Raven?

Well, your coat, sir, is a brave one!

So black and glossy, on my word, sir,

With voice to match, you were a bird, sir,

Well fit to be the Phoenix of these days."

Sir Raven, overset with praise,

Must show how musical his croak.

Down fell the luncheon from the oak;

Which snatching up, Sir Fox thus spoke:─

"The flatterer, my good sir,

Aye liveth on his listener;

Which lesson, if you please,

Is doubtless worth the cheese."

A bit too late, Sir Raven swore

The rogue should never cheat him more.



Jean de La Fontaine





Maître Corbeau, sur un arbre perché,

Tenait en son bec un fromage.

Maître Renard, par l'odeur alléché,

Lui tint à peu près ce langage :

"Hé ! bonjour, Monsieur du Corbeau.

Que vous êtes joli ! que vous me semblez beau !

Sans mentir, si votre ramage

Se rapporte à votre plumage,

Vous êtes le Phénix des hôtes de ces bois. "

A ces mots le Corbeau ne se sent pas de joie ;

Et pour montrer sa belle voix,

Il ouvre un large bec, laisse tomber sa proie.

Le Renard s'en saisit, et dit : "Mon bon Monsieur,

Apprenez que tout flatteur

Vit aux dépens de celui qui l'écoute :

Cette leçon vaut bien un fromage, sans doute. "

Le Corbeau, honteux et confus,

Jura, mais un peu tard, qu'on ne l'y prendrait plus.



Jean de La Fontaine

After Death

It is a sonnet written by Christina Rossetti (Dante Gabriel's sister). You can find that poem in Goblin Market. I've been reading it over and over again, it is a beautiful poem.

The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept

And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may

Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,

Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.

He leaned above me, thinking that I slept

And could not hear him; but I heard him say:

"Poor child, poor child" and as he turned away

Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.

He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold

That hid my face, or take my hands in his

Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:

He did not love me living; but once dead

He pitied me; and very sweet it is

To know he still is warm though I am cold.

Beckett on stage

On May, 9th 2009, A friend asked me to take photos of a rehearsal - in which she played - in Palais de la Culture. The play gathered severeal works of Beckett: passages of Waiting for Godot (1952), Come and Go (1965), Rockaby (1981), Rough for Theatre I (late 1950s), Rough For Theatre II (late 1950s), Happy Days (1960) ... My favourite one was Rockaby. The girl was amazing and beautiful. It was the first time I took photos in a theatre - I must admit it was very difficult, as it was very dark and it was not easy to take photos of Someone in movement and avoiding blurred photos.

Reading Salome by Oscar Wilde (1892)

"THE YOUNG SYRIAN: How beautiful is the Princess Salome tonight!

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS: Look at the moon. How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from a tomb. She is like a dead woman. One might fancy she was looking for dead things.

THE YOUNG SYRIAN: She has a strange look. She is like a little princess who wears a yellow veil, and whose feet are of silver. She is like a princess who has little white doves for feet. One might fancy she was dancing.

THE PAGE OF HERODIAS: She is like a woman who is dead. She moves very slowly."