Sunday, 15 January 2017


It was a sizzling day in the South of France last June, 
when we arrived in Cagnes sur Mer 
to take in the old farmhouse & gardens of Auguste Renoir
~ his beloved “Les Collettes”, 
where he lived with his family 
for the final twelve years of his life. 
The estate is perched on top of a hill 
with incredible views to the Cap d’Antibes
and Haut-de-Cagnes.

As we ascend towards the main building, 
we pass under the shadow of olive trees, 
the kind Northern girl me has hardly seen 
~ centuries old that you can’t resist brushing with your hand 
to feel those enticing grooves, lifelines on the bark
~ etchings of the passing years, 
like lines on a dear elderly face 
with wisdom concealed in the depths.

It’s a surprisingly quiet afternoon, 
as we walk through the main entrance 
~ just one other couple & the two of us. 
We enter an unspoken pact to keep our distance, 
as if all here by ourselves, 
ready to hear the walls speak. 

And the walls  do tell their stories 
~ in unison with the peeling layers of paint, 
the far-flung ceilings, 
the sense of stillness, 

the simply and sparsely furnished rooms, 
that caressing gold-tinged milky light 
that floods through the vast windows 
& fills you to the core. 
I swear I can feel it now.

Renoir’s wheelchair & easel in his atelier 
are reminders of the pain & beauty that intermingled, 
that never ruled each other out. 
The creativity & persistence.

He painted until his death, 
even with his hands curled due to arthritis 
and being left in a wheelchair after a stroke. 

He looked for new ways of expression 
~ changed his technique,
an assistant would place the brush in his bandaged hand. 
He used a moving canvas to be able to make larger works. 
And he began to create sculptures with the help of a young artist. 

“The pain passes, but the beauty remains”
~ he is quoted as saying.

“The work of art must seize upon you, 
wrap you up in itself and carry you away. 
It is the means by which the artist conveys his passion. 
It is the current which he puts forth 
which sweeps you along in his passion.”

– Pierre-Auguste Renoir


[All pictures shot last summer
at Les Collettes aka Musée Renoir,
visitor information here.]

Tuesday, 10 January 2017


... a house with such beautiful bones...

Photographs by Line T Klein


Monday, 9 January 2017


This week's challenge was to take an image 
without any post-processing whatsoever
(although setting the camera
to also include a jpeg version
as was the idea here
does mean the camera's made certain adjustments for you...) 

In any case,
in this world of filters & what nots
I think this is a great exercise 
– both forcing you to try & get the image you envisage
already in camera,
and teaching a little about
learning to live with 
& having the guts 
to put out there 
an image that includes
certain things you'd like to tweak a bit,
even if just minor adjustments
like white balance or cropping... 

The idea is to come back to this photo
in week 50 and edit it
– let's see where the mood takes then. 


Friday, 6 January 2017


There's something in the soul 
that craves something fresh & new at the start of the year.
No huge changes in my life in store this year
(that I know of yet anyway),
so was eager to jump aboard
A good opportunity to think out of the box a bit
and stretch one's personal limits & comfort zone. 
Thought I'd share snippets of these weekly tasks
over here as well. 

The first week's task was to 
tell a story using the rule of thirds 
– and my mind instantly jumped to the thought
of a blank sheet of paper at the start of the year
 to slowly begin to jot down a brand new story. 
A soft landing, a quiet start.


Saturday, 31 December 2016


here's to the magic of new beginnings,
a door closing,
another one opening. 
hopes that arise deep inside,
a blank page for leaving our mark. 
thank you 2016,
thank you dear *you*,
welcome all that's new. 



Thursday, 29 December 2016


Me, my girl & a quiet island.
Close by,
another world.
The wind turned her cheeks to rosebuds,
on the other side of the island,
the sun glistened in gold. 

Although it was closed,
there was a faint sound of music
 from the summer restaurant
lingering in the crisp air,
as birds began their feast
on her outstretched hand. 

"We stood
steady as the stars in the woods
So happy-hearted
And the warmth rang true 
inside these bones
As the old pine fell we sang,
just to bless the morning."


Friday, 23 December 2016


Wishing you & yours 

a tender, happy Christmas time.


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