Category Archives: Letters From Paris

Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

LETTER FROM PARIS, autumn 2014

LETTER FROM PARIS, autumn 2014 from Margo Berdeshevsky   Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky  It’s been awhile. But my eyes are open. As always, I want to join in calling in the light. In believing in a word such as love.

Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

LETTER FROM PARIS, autumn 2014

LETTER FROM PARIS, autumn 2014 from Margo Berdeshevsky   Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky  It’s been awhile. But my eyes are open. As always, I want to join in calling in the light. In believing in a word such as love.

Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

Letter from Paris, Autumn 2013

LETTER FROM PARIS, autumn 2013 from Margo Berdeshevsky And These boots were made for walkin’… Is my world going to hell? Probably. Yours? Maybe. Probably. Warning: This post may offer a darkling vision. Paris, well known as city of light

Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

Letter from Paris, Autumn 2013

LETTER FROM PARIS, autumn 2013 from Margo Berdeshevsky And These boots were made for walkin’… Is my world going to hell? Probably. Yours? Maybe. Probably. Warning: This post may offer a darkling vision. Paris, well known as city of light

Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

Letter from Paris, Spring 2013

from Margo Berdeshevsky IT WAS MAY DAY IN PARIS…or WAS IT ONLY THE IMAGE? “Une petit(e) Piece Dieu Nous Benisse.” A coin—a little coin, God Bless us. I noticed that her sign said bless “us.” Not bless “you.” And she

Photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

Letter from Paris, Spring 2013

from Margo Berdeshevsky IT WAS MAY DAY IN PARIS…or WAS IT ONLY THE IMAGE? “Une petit(e) Piece Dieu Nous Benisse.” A coin—a little coin, God Bless us. I noticed that her sign said bless “us.” Not bless “you.” And she

photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

LETTER FROM PARIS, Winter 2013

from Margo Berdeshevsky IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD…or WAS IT THE IMAGE? Before the winter insisted on being all it’s about, I had thought, I’ll send this letter beginning with a shot-in-a-mirror self portrait: Margo, photog-with-graffiti, in Paris. But

photo © Margo Berdeshevsky

LETTER FROM PARIS, Winter 2013

from Margo Berdeshevsky IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD…or WAS IT THE IMAGE? Before the winter insisted on being all it’s about, I had thought, I’ll send this letter beginning with a shot-in-a-mirror self portrait: Margo, photog-with-graffiti, in Paris. But

photo(c) by margo berdeshevsky

Letter from Paris

From Margo Berdeshevsky NOTES FROM THIS SIDE OF THE SEINE : May 6, 2012, chants and singing in the streets, the children’s are the very loudest voices… “Hollande, Hollande!” & “Sarkozy, C’est Fini!”   The faces are young, young, young, It is

photo(c) by margo berdeshevsky

Letter from Paris

From Margo Berdeshevsky NOTES FROM THIS SIDE OF THE SEINE : May 6, 2012, chants and singing in the streets, the children’s are the very loudest voices… “Hollande, Hollande!” & “Sarkozy, C’est Fini!”   The faces are young, young, young, It is

copyright_mberdeshevsky_occupy-republique

Letter from Paris in October

From Margo Berdeshevsky Notes from this side of the Seine Dear Ones: I’m passing the sound…On Oct 11 Joan Baez did a concert in Paris at The Grand Rex, it was sold out, standing room etc, I got a lucky

copyright_mberdeshevsky_occupy-republique

Letter from Paris in October

From Margo Berdeshevsky Notes from this side of the Seine Dear Ones: I’m passing the sound…On Oct 11 Joan Baez did a concert in Paris at The Grand Rex, it was sold out, standing room etc, I got a lucky

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, the still medieval Crécy la chapelle

Letter from Paris in September

From Margo Berdeshevsky Notes from this side of the Seine: Paris, summer riding into autumn, 2011 How can one be anxious in summer? As a poet, one can. As a human, one can. There’s the besieged and quaked and stormed

photo © by Margo Berdeshevsky, the still medieval Crécy la chapelle

Letter from Paris in September

From Margo Berdeshevsky Notes from this side of the Seine: Paris, summer riding into autumn, 2011 How can one be anxious in summer? As a poet, one can. As a human, one can. There’s the besieged and quaked and stormed