Non, rien de rien.....
Saturday was the 100th anniversary of the birth of a remarkable Parisienne. Sometimes in life we can be born with deformities, illness and poverty as she was. She grew up in Paris's 20th arrondissement amongst the prostitutes of the Place de Pigalle, suffered crippling arthritic pain from a twisted body but miraculously discovered a life-changing talent. As 2015 turns into 2016 that is a lesson from which we can all learn. Resolve to discover your talent during this coming year. It may not be life-changing like hers but it will give you a reason for living, evoke the very essence of your inner being, and maybe it will make your name memorable long after you've gone. If no-one remembers you in the future, what's life for? So, just like Edith Piaf (and the character David Klein in Vichyssoise, to be published during 2016), you can truly say:
.....je ne regrette rien!
A happy, healthy and memorable 2016 to all my readers, wherever you live and whatever your individual talents. Make the most of them.
Showing posts with label Edith Piaf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edith Piaf. Show all posts
17th January 2010
I was feeling miserable. I even joined Facebook, but that told me I only had one friend. So, something had to be done.
On Monday we were wandering around the market at Caussade. The winter stall-holders were stamping their feet, their mingled breath telling their own story as they struggled to make a living. The only conversations I heard were steeped in occitan dialect, the ends of words having a special musical cadence all their own.
It was then that we passed the music stall. 'I know that voice,' I said. A shiver ran down my spine. 'I'll take it,' I said to the grateful stall-holder, shoving the CD deep inside my bag. It was just what I needed. When we got home and warmed up with a cup of chocolat chaud, I clicked the disc onto our radio/CD player.
And then she sang 'L'hymne a l'amour'. Oh my God. Have you heard it? The melody is just so haunting. Unmistakeably Edith Piaf. (Google Piaf, '20 Chansons d'Or' and listen to that song on your PC).
A message to Simon Cowell: when, oh when, is someone like Edith Piaf going to walk into your auditions and start to sing like that? That's what I long for. I don't want to hear karaoke, I don't want to hear rap. I want to hear someone who sends an instant tingle down the spine.
Simon: I'm waiting......
On Monday we were wandering around the market at Caussade. The winter stall-holders were stamping their feet, their mingled breath telling their own story as they struggled to make a living. The only conversations I heard were steeped in occitan dialect, the ends of words having a special musical cadence all their own.
It was then that we passed the music stall. 'I know that voice,' I said. A shiver ran down my spine. 'I'll take it,' I said to the grateful stall-holder, shoving the CD deep inside my bag. It was just what I needed. When we got home and warmed up with a cup of chocolat chaud, I clicked the disc onto our radio/CD player.
And then she sang 'L'hymne a l'amour'. Oh my God. Have you heard it? The melody is just so haunting. Unmistakeably Edith Piaf. (Google Piaf, '20 Chansons d'Or' and listen to that song on your PC).
A message to Simon Cowell: when, oh when, is someone like Edith Piaf going to walk into your auditions and start to sing like that? That's what I long for. I don't want to hear karaoke, I don't want to hear rap. I want to hear someone who sends an instant tingle down the spine.
Simon: I'm waiting......
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