Prague to Paris to London

We are excited to see Paris Photo back in the Grand Palais. This unbelievable building, with its entire roof made of glass, has been closed for renovation for several years. It is every bit as grand as we remembered. The changes are so discreet they can’t be seen—perhaps an entirely new floor—but the space is far too beautiful for major alterations anyway.

We separate from the LeBarons, each couple going at its own pace and in its own direction. One of our first stops reveals small houses constructed by hand with vintage photographs forming three of the walls—unique and beautiful. We get the price and move on. At our second stop, the gallery owner recognizes us immediately—we purchased a piece from him in 2023. We ask him to hold a couple of works. Then we circle back to the gallery with the houses and ask them to hold our favorite as well.

Less than 30 minutes later I get a call from that first gallery—they have a customer who wants “our house.” I tell them we will go ahead and purchase it. Could that customer be the LeBarons? We have traveled and bought art with them for 35 years—we are often drawn to the same artists, and sometimes even the same piece.

It takes us from 11:00 to 5:00 to get through the entire show, and even then we never make it to the giant book section on the second floor. Around 4:00 we circle back to confirm our two purchases. Bingo—it was the LeBarons, and they purchased two other houses, which will be shipped with ours.

We try hard to meet the artists whose work we own. Earlier today we met Richard Learoyd. One of our favorite pieces—a reclining nude—is by Richard. He uses an old photographic method with a “pinhole” camera or camera obscura. It’s worth looking up. It turns out his studio is in London—the Duncans’ next stop.

We then met both artists of the works we purchased. More photographs. One was particularly unique. What fun. Perhaps one of these artists would like to come to the residency in Puerto Vallarta.

On the way back, and just across the street from our hotel, Karen “fell” into a fabric store. Thirty minutes and over a thousand dollars later, she emerged claiming it was the best fabric store she had ever seen.

After a quick drink at the hotel bar (the DuncanTini looked and tasted gorgeous), we walked to a nearby restaurant for another wonderful dinner. Then we grabbed an Uber to a cocktail party given by our Omaha friends, Susie and Stuart Smoler. The tiny room was packed, everyone talking at once. We knew several of the guests—more fun!

By the way, in case you haven’t noticed, my day and date in the title have been off. Let’s blame it on the time change—or my age. Until tomorrow.

Robert