Le Havre France: Aub Art

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I stayed in Le Havre, France for several days. The first night I arrived late and just crashed. The second evening I went out to the restaurant right next door called Aub Art.It is a newer restaurant that has a bar and some games as well as fine dining. Photos exhibited on the walls were by the father of the woman who opened the fine dining establishment. I was told there is often live music.

There is a second floor as well which seems to be a lounge area. The dining room was empty except for me. I started a sketch thinking people were sure to sow up and fill in the scene at some point. They never did. I dined alone.

The appetizer was a delicious tomato, Mozzarella, Basel dish with balsamic vinegar. That was delicious. The main course was a baked salmon that was also quite good. Water comes in tiny bottles in France and I always seem to be parched so I had several bottles.

After dinner I had to book a room at my next destination. It was while booking that room that I found out my credit card had been hacked. I didn’t loose the card. It never left my sight, but a plane ticket purchase was attempted to Amsterdam. Since I have no plans to fly to Amsterdam, I had to admit to Seacoast Bank that their card had been hacked. Though I told Seacoast bank that I was on vacation, they have been treating me like I am the criminal rather than the victim of fraud. That battle is still ongoing. I still do not have access to the savings that were put aside for this trip.

The plane ticked was purchased in the states. I had a hot dog at the airport and purchased a train ticket to Le Havre and then this dinner at Aub Art. I cant figure out how the card was hacked with so few uses on the trip. Each evening is a series of calls trying to get past robots and pointless questionnaire loops that lead to no solutions. I had Seacoast Bank mail the new credit card the bank sent out to my brother in the north east. He is sending the card to a distant cousin who lives in Germany. In a few days I will be driving to that cousin to pick up the card. Without that piece of plastic I am assumed to be a criminal.

About February 17, 1945 Le Havre, France

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Traveling to Le Havre, France by train from Paris was a challenge. Le Havre is the French port city that the 75th Infantry history notes at the port troops arrived at from South Hampton, England. I might be flying to England later in this trip to sketch South Hampton and to buy several weeks away from Schengen European countries so that I can attend a huge WWII reenactment in Belgium which features the 75th Infantry. I have 90 days to finish this project and I might need to extend the time spent by skipping away to England for a time.

I got several hundred dollars in Euros at an ATM machine in the airport for emergencies. Today at a restaurant the waitress told me they don’t take credit cards. I tried a credit card, a debit card, and neither worked. Thankfully I still had a few Euros inn my pocket. I spent an afternoon trying to get Euros from Western Union but was tld, they can not use a credit card to exchange money. It has to be cash to cash. I don’t have much American cash, s I am stuck.

My first day in Le Havre, I sketched this WWII Memorial, called the Monument Aux Morts. It was built in 1924 to honor the dead from WWI but later plaques were added t honor the dead from WWII. This monument would have been standing when my father, Arthur Thorspecken first arrived in Europe. It commemorates the 6,638 residents of Le Havre who gave their lives in the first World War, the Second World Wat and in Indochina and Algeria. One plaque was a tribute to the resistance fighters of Le Havre who were deported and died for France during WWII. Another plaque was for the Soldiers who died for France between 1939 and 1945. Another plaque was for the civilian victims who died during theh bombings of Le Havre during WWII.

Besides the dark metal plaques at the foot of the sculpture the large stone base was covered with names of the dead carved into the stone. Lady liberty spreads her wings on one end of the sculpture while the grim reaper bows his shrouded head looking over the names of the dead.

This was a good first day of sketching. At night I ate at a restaurant right in the building I was staying in. Then I went upstairs and started to book a room for the next day. The next stop was several hundred miles east of Le Havre just West of Colmar France. While trying to book a room, Seacoast Bank contacted me and said they suspected fraud with my Debit card. I had only bought a train ticket and several meals. The Le Havre room had been booked from the United States. Looking through the expenses they questioned, everything checked out except an attempted purchase of a plane ticket to Amsterdam. I had no intention of flying to Amsterdam, so sure enough someone had somehow hacked into my debit card account. Maybe I should not have ordered a Nathans Hot Dog at the airport. I still had the card, but was told I had to cut it up. I had a Revolut card that I decided to get for emergencies before I left the states. It now became my life line. Seacoast Bank however is holding my savings hostage and will not let me transfer funds to my Revolut Visa travel card. I also have an American Express card but it keeps failing, when I try to use it. Every day has become a battle, wondering if I will end up homeless in Europe with no access to my bank account. Raymond, a service rep for my bank refused to help saying, “I don’t know anything about that Revolut card and neither does my supervisor.” It seems ignorance is a sad excuse for poor costumer service.  Though the victim of card fraud, I feel like I am being treated as the criminal. Fourteen days into my Europe WWII project and the banking battle continues.  I have started eating fallen pears and apples to keep food expenses down so that the funds don’t run out before a solution is found. I just keep moving forward and hopefully it will all work out.  “Always get there somehow.”

Forest to Mausoleum

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A day or two before I left for Europe to follow in my father’s footsteps in WWII, a roof was thrown up on the home being built next to the Lake County studio I was renting. The lot had been a lush forested area just a few weeks before. The sand mountain the home sat on had been leveled and built up in a day. The cinder block mausoleum had gone p in a day, and now the roof structure went up in a day. This was now the largest home in the area on its own mountaintop/

The roof beams had an interesting inverted series of beams which I suppose are to keep the roof from collapsing inward in the high winds of a hurricane. All the triangular sections were delivered to the job site pre-assembled. They were each lifted int place where workmen quickly hammered them into place.

All the workmen spoke Spanish which made me concerned for their safety in the new hate fueled policies of ICE, seizures and deportations. I have seen photos of rooms filled with workmen still in their uniforms in detention centers, having been rounded up from their work sites.

I am in Europe right now in Northern France about to cross the border into Belgium. Russia has just sent military drones over Poland  and it feels like WWIII is about to break out with Trump, a wanna be dictator, in the White House who is owned by Putin.

80 years ago America helped defeat dictators and bring about world peace. Nuclear bombs were used to stop the war in the  Pacific. That was a questionable decision which I hope is never repeated. It only takes a few petty, power hungry men to break down democracy and embrace autocracy in a lust for land, power and a desire to stay in power indefinately.

Never Again

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I went to a conference with several embers of the staff of the Orange County History Center. Daniel Bradfield and Pamela Schwartz gave a presentation about the History Center’s collection efforts after the Pulse Nightclub massacre, where a gunman entered the nightclub with an AK47 and killed 49 people while injuring many others.

Spontaneous and large memorial popped up of flowers and  memorial items related to the victims. The collecting happened in the hottest months of the summer in Orlando. Flowers quickly wilted an died creating a tench that is quite memorable and perhaps unhealthy.

A few people were angered by the staff collecting at the memorial sites, thinking they were steeling items rather than preserving them for history. If the History Center had not collected items they would have all ended in the landfill.

There have been incredible exhibits each year honoring the victims of the mass shooting which happened on June 12, 2016. I sat in and sketched during the oral histories with survivors and family of the victims. Hearing all these life and death stories can be overwhelming and i helped to talk to staff to try and come to terms with the horrible situations that were presented. I can’t say I have fully come to terms with all that I learned about this and other mass shootings. Americas love affair with guns and mass murder is ard to digest.

I was just at a WWII American Military camp reconstruction in Clamercy, France and on a few occasion there were loud noises that must have been fireworks. Such noises can be triggering, making me think I should look for cover.

Bus Ride to The Woodring Wall and Museum

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Mt father was a 1st Lieutenant of the 75th Infantry Division. The 2025 reunion for the 75th was being held in Oklahoma City, so I had to go to see what I could find out that might help as I make plans to follow in my fathers footsteps through Europe.

There were several day trips planned. One to the Oklahoma National Memorial & Museum and the other to the Woodring Wall & Museum. The bus ride was a solid one and a half hours, so I had plenty of time to get a sketch done. I was also given a paperback book that was a history of the 75th Infantry so I read that on the bus ride back.

The bus driver gave us all one important warning. He said that there was a bathroom at the back of the bus but he advised against against any number twos. I’m guessing the thing doesn’t flush very well. He also advised that men sit down since he didn’t want anyone falling down with all the side to side movement of the bus.

What I recall most about the bus trip was all the gorgeous wide open countryside and and endless line of wind mills. Like an airline, there was a safety video on the multiple screens hanging over the seats.

When the buss pulled into the air field, I could see the Vietnam memorial wall. There were few name to start and then each panel filled up to it’s full height. At the far end of the long wall the names compressed once again as the wall angles down in a triangular fashion. This wall is a miniature replica of the Memorial in Washington, DC designed by then undergraduate,  Maya Ying Lin. To find the name of a loved one it is best to use the index which tells youo what panel to look at. Names on the wall are arranged chronologically, so it might take a long time to search the 58,318 names of Americans who had been killed in action. The printed index allows you to search fr the name alphabetically.

On the bus ride back to Oklahoma City, I read the 75th Infantry history ind underlined sections to double check against the list of cities and engagements I was compiling for my trip through, France, Belgium, Netherlands and Germany. Many accounts of what happened in the later days of WWII don’t pin point the actual days or even the cities, so I have to cross reference everything to come p with a unified plan of attack.

Market Day

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Stella Arbeláez Tascón and I went to the Webster Westside Flea Market (516 NW 3rd Street, Webster, FL). This is a painting of the combined haul before we divvied up the spoils of the marketing war.

Stella is great at comparing prices and finding the best deal while I just grab on impulse and sometimes forget to pay. I’m just excited to get the produce in my ancient granny cart which was rickety by the end of the shopping spree due to the produce weight.

The jar contains, Tamarind, a hard shelled pea shaped Fruit legume, which is sweet and bitter at the same time. I bit off individual seed pods and nurse the fruit off the seed with my front teeth while rolling it in my mouth.

I have become addicted to having several oranges every day. I am also a fan of cooking corn on the cob every night. It only takes 5 minutes to boil an ear so it is a quick snack.

In the background of the sketch are some ink bottles. Stella was testing each bottle of ink for it’s permanence when used with watercolor washes. It turns out one bottle is not permanent and that is the one she had been using.

My backpack for my Europe trip arrived yesterday. Each morning I put it on to walk around the block to see how it feels. I shopped at REI and maybe packed it 1/3 full. I hope on my travels I can find keep finding lush bounties of fruit as I hike, train and drive from town to town. I am getting close to finishing my itinerary. Which will give me a list of the towns and hamlets I must visit to follow in 1st Lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken‘s footsteps as his C-Company infantry unit moved from France to Belgium, Norway and ultimately the heart of Germany at the end of WWII. I think I solved the mystery of which work concentration camp his unit might have liberated and moved the victims toward Eastern Europe via train box cars. The displaced person’s didn’t want to get on the train and his unit had to hammer the box car doors shut with nails. The trip East might have been a death sentence. Skeletal faces started out from between box car boards in sorrow.

50 Oldest Churches of NYC: Old New Dorp Moravian Church

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Old New Dorp Moravian Church at Richmond Road and Todt Hill Road in Staten Island New York, was built as the first Moravian church of Staten Island in 1763, this structure of Dutch Colonial style served as combined church and parsonage until 1845 when the new church was constructed. It has since been used as a church school and a cemetery office.

The Moravian Cemetery is the largest and oldest active cemetery on Staten Island, having opened in 1740. The cemetery encompasses 113 acres (46 hectares) and is the property of the local Moravian Church congregation of Staten Island.

In what was a purely farming community, the cemetery was originally made available as a free cemetery for the public in order to discourage families from using farm burial plots. The Moravian Cemetery is the burial place for a number of famous Staten Islanders, including members of the Vanderbilt family.

After the closure in the 1880s of the South Reformed Dutch Church in Richmondtown the graves of that church’s graveyard were re-interred at Moravian.

A monument to Robert Gould Shaw, a Union soldier who led the first all-black regiment in the American Civil War and died in the Second Battle of Fort Wagner, was erected here by his family. The director Martin Scorsese also has a burial plot here.

In the 19th century, Cornelius Vanderbilt gave the Moravian Church 45 acres. Later, his son William Henry Vanderbilt gave a further 4 acres and constructed the residence for the cemetery superintendent. The Vanderbilt Mausoleum, designed by Richard Morris Hunt and constructed in 1885–1886, is part of the family’s privately owned cemetery. The Vanderbilt Mausoleum is a replica of a Romanesque church in Arles, France. The Vanderbilt Cemetery landscape was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted. The cemetery is not open to the public. The Vanderbilt Mausoleum and portions of the cemetery were designated a New York City designated landmark in 2016.

Misinformation Mind Parasites

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Andy Norman, reported that America is facing a pandemic of ignorance.  Insane QAnon theories have captured the minds of many and anti vaccine rhetoric is spreading like wildfire with reason and thought being abandoned for blind devotion to baseless doctrine.

In his provocative book Mental Immunity: Infectious Ideas, Mind-Parasites, and the Search for a Better Way to Think, Newman unearths this growing scourge. In this era,  misinformation is more common, and spreads even faster than the virus.

He explained, “Parasites require a host, bad ideas require a host. Parasites often compromise the health of their hosts. Bad ideas can also compromise the mental well being of their hosts. Parasites can leap from body to body. Bad ideas can leap from mind to mind.”

Facebook algorithms have nurtured this tsunami of misinformation. Facebook founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg said the social media giant has removed 18 million posts containing misinformation about COVID-19, but would not say how many times the posts had been viewed or shared.

A White House study 12 misinformation super spreaders they dubbed, the “disinformation dozen”.  Misinformation experts have condemned platforms for taking down some of the most egregious accounts, but not others. For instance, the anti-vaccine figurehead Robert F. Kennedy Jr. still has an account on Facebook, despite being banned from Instagram, which is owned by Facebook.

 The Washington Post reported that a new peer-reviewed study from researchers at New York University and the Université Grenoble Alpes in France will show that misinformation got six times as much engagement on Facebook as real news. Pages that post more misinformation regularly got more likes, shares, and comments. Truth be damned, Facebook wants clicks.

Vaccine misinformation remains very high on Facebook. President Joe Biden said that the tech giants such as Facebook are “killing people” by failing to tackle the problem. Experts who study online misinformation say it has still largely failed to address the issue and that falsehoods about the vaccine are still reaching millions of people. Rather than tackle the issue, Facebook founder Zuckerberg has decided to instead start placing pro-Facebook messaging in its news feed. It is the usual adage of deny, deflect and do a distracting dance while raking in the dough. The mighty dollar trumps death.

Pre-Pandemic: Greek Island of Meis

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The Greek island of Kastellorizo – or Meis, as it’s known in Turkey is a short ferry ride from Kaş in Turkey. It is a hilly little island with plenty of gorgeously colorful tile roofed homes. Kastellorizo is  the name given to the island when it was administered by Italy, and it means Red Castle.

A hike up the hills outside of town offered an overall vista of the town below, but this is the only sketch I squeezed in for the day. The town itself is fascinating to explore with narrow alley ways between building and many staircases going up hills. This peaceful island is worthy of weeks of exploration with a sketchbook in hand.

The quiet waters around this island have become a scene of international contention. Turkey and Greece, NATO allies, vehemently disagree over overlapping claims to oil and gas drilling rights in the region based on conflicting views on the extent of their continental shelves in waters dotted with mostly Greek islands. Tensions rose when Turkey sent a seismic research ship, Oruc Reis, on Monday August 10, 2020 to a disputed area of the Mediterranean, accompanied by warships, days after Greece signed a maritime deal with Egypt. The maritime deal set the sea boundary between the two countries and demarcated an exclusive economic zone for oil and gas drilling rights.

The deal was a response to a similar agreement between Turkey and Libya’s Tripoli-based government last year that has spiked tensions in the East Mediterranean region. The Turkey-Libya deal was widely dismissed by Egypt, Cyprus and Greece as an infringement on their economic rights in the oil-rich sea. The European Union says it’s a violation of intentional law that threatens stability in the region.

Hakar said Turkey would continue to defend its “rights, ties and interests” in coastal waters. “It should be known that our seas are our blue homeland. Every drop is valuable,” he said. Turkey says it has the longest coastline in the eastern Mediterranean but that it is penned in to a narrow strip of waters due to the extension of Greece’s continental shelf, based on the presence of many Greek islands near its shore.

Greece and Turkey have been at odds for decades over sea boundaries but recent discoveries of natural gas and drilling plans across the east Mediterranean have exacerbated the dispute.

Tensions in the eastern Mediterranean took a dangerous new turn on Aug. 13 as Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan ramped up his hawkish rhetoric against Greece. He warned Greece that if it were to attack a Turkish seismic research ship deployed off a small Greek island, it would “pay a heavy price.” His assertive stance in the eastern Mediterranean maritime dispute is being challenged by a bloc comprising Greece, Cyprus, Egypt, Israel and France.

France, a NATO ally has deployed warships to disputed waters in the eastern Mediterranean in support of Greece. France’s move came after a phone call Wednesday August 12, 2020 between French President Emmanuel Macron and Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis. The Elysee Palace said in a statement that France was going to “temporarily reinforce” its military presence in the eastern Mediterranean so as to “better monitor” the area and ensure that “international law is respected.”

European Union foreign ministers were holding urgent talks Friday August 14, 2020 on military tensions between Greece and Turkey as the neighboring countries’ navies continued a game of brinkmanship over eastern Mediterranean drilling rights.

Florida Film Festival

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I went to a Florida Film Festival press preview for “After Winter, Spring“directed by Judith Lit at the Enzian Theater, (1300 S South Orlando Avenue, Maitland, FL.) This is a love story for the farmers in Perigord,
France, which has been continuously cultivated for over five thousand
years. One hundred years ago, half of the population of France were
farmers. Now less than 3% are. Will the Perigord peasants be the last
generation to employ and sustain the old methods? Will the world lose
their “old peasant wisdom” of prudence, respect, and love of the earth?
Filmed over four years, “After Winter, Spring” is a treasure trove of
great food and farming traditions. With fascinating detail, it captures
the roots of farm-to-table and the tenacity of the people who have taken
one season at a time for generations. The filmmaker, an American ex-pat
and Perigord neighbor, was raised on her own family’s farm in
Pennsylvania. Her bond to the land and the people who love it translates
into an insightful, lyrical tribute to a way of life on the verge of
extinction. 

Judith grew up on a small farm in Pennsylvania. She saw how her parents had to sell off the farm in small parcels until there was no land left to farm. When she traveled to France later in life, she fell in love with the quaint farming life. She packed everything and went to France to rediscover her roots. She interviewed her farming neighbors to learn about their more natural way of living.

The film didn’t only show small farms as a bucolic ideal. Three generations of women ran a goose farm. In a rather graphic scene, one of the women answered questions as she shoved a funnel deep down a gooses neck to force feed it. She massaged the goose’s neck to force it to swallow. The harsher sides of farming were shown, like shaving a slaughtered pig with a machete or breaking a chicken’s neck and then plucking the feathers.

A tobacco farmer bragged about the beauty of his hand harvested crop. “The more beautiful it is, the prouder we are. It (the tobacco) sings on the verge of being brittle.” All the farmers are trying to find a path through change. It is hard to compete against huge industrial farms that have multi-million dollar machines doing all the work. The smaller farming families feel their land helps preserve habitat. Since they are attentive to the land, they become more attentive to themselves and others. As one farmer stated, “I accept what life gives me. I can’t do otherwise.”

The one shred of hope is that people have grown sick of over processed food-like products. A younger generation is returning to the fields to live lives closer to nature.  Farm to table, has become a new battle cry. Perhaps the pendulum can swing back. Perhaps Spring can follow a Winter of industrialized neglect.