Once again History hits Templehof. It was on this site that French aviator Armand Zipfeld landed the first airplane in Berlin, forever changing our world’s mode of transport.
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When I was in high school, parties were held in garages. That electrified us. Hormones and pheromones exploded, maybe that’s why we called it “booms”.
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That’s funny, Jean-Marie Bigard is the French people’s favourite stand-up comedian, but most of his millions of fans are oblivious to his other great talent.
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Tomcat teased Pussy. Pussy coaxed tomcat. Tomcat pawed Pussy. So she scooped up that tomcat by the scruff of his neck, and did squeeze’em and squash’em, poor kitty tween’er titties.
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With his ever alert gaze, Peter Klasen, one of the founders of New Figuration, visits the exhibit dedicated to this movement at the Patinoire Royale in Brussels.
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I haven’t been back to Bomal in a long time. Bomal is a village in the Belgian Ardennes, but for me, it’s a house, first. That of my godmother Jacqueline who devoted her life to caring for others.
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Take a grey sky, some dark heavy clouds, over-abundant rains, sopping wet lawns, a couple of sighing kids and one basement, nice and dry : you’ve got all the ingredients for a typically Belgian sport, basement soccer.
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GiedRé fills all venues, big and small, from the Olympia in Paris to the Reflektor in Liège. But most of all, she fills a gaping void on French stages, that of insolent humour. Imagine Dorothy possessed by Johnny Rotten.
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Afro-Americans, Haitians, Jamaicans, Puerto Ricans, Brazilians and even American Indians are apparently the true Jews, due to their ancestry and blood ties.
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No, no… Luc d’Haegeleer hasn’t got “a stick falling out of his bundle”, an expression used by my godmother from the Ardennes to denote a quirky character.
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The meeting with Hans Koschnick, Mostar administrator from 1994 to 1996, almost never happened. His efforts to reconcile Croatians and Bosnians weren’t to everybody’s liking.
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Photography is life. Photography is love. Photography is adventure. Be your own life’s reporter, up to the front line. Take pictures. Live. Love. Travel. Take chances. Make love.
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There was more than one revelation at last night’s preview of “Jay parmi les hommes” (“Jay Amongst Men”), Zeno’s short film.
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When I see Bea standing on this pedestal deep in a park, I seize my camera but too late, she’s already climbing down! I take the photo anyway, knowing that I’ve botched it.
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It’s downright friendly of the Belgian Prime Minister to drop in on the Dakar bivouac while on holiday in Burkina-Faso. Copious numbers of Belgians participate in what’s known as the toughest rally raid in the world, so that makes for a lot of handshakes.
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In the streets after September 11th, Americans were chanting « USA ! ». Last Sunday in Paris, the French were shouting “Liberté !”. The dust hasn’t even settled yet, but I can sense, behind Charlie, a real vision for the future.
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It’s high time to plug in a good word for Jacky ! After all, on the eve of his 70th birthday, the greatest Belgian racing driver deserves three cheers.
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Printing out the instructions for use of an inflatable doll on a girl’s T-shirt, now that’s pretty puffed up. I’d even call it punk.
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Hot Dog! With those sunglasses, Maud has got pizzazz. A smile stunning like a glint in a window, a ray of light through the drabness of the day, a sparkle of sunshine, a sudden flash that recharges your batteries.
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One cold murky early morning as I was dropping off my eight-year-old son at his camp, we noticed that we were walking along a field of harvested corn.
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