I’ve become a big fan of Brandi Carlile this winter, having discovered her through her work with Tanya Tucker and her documentary on the singer.

I’ve been reading her memoir, Broken Horses, and when I read this passage, I completely related:

Brandi is right. I can remember right now the heavenly scent of the fur of my black quarter horse and how I loved to stroke his long, strong neck and study his big black eyes. I loved hanging from his neck too. When riding him, I loved his mane. Sometimes my dad would shave it off, but I loved it long. And I loved his forelock as well. If I had known then what I know now, I would have decorated my black horse, in the way they did in the European courts. It would have been a more humble version, but I would have loved it and my horse enjoyed all of my attention (we had a special bond, he and I) and I think he’s have borne it well.

A few years ago I had the good fortune to visit Morocco. I loved it and found my way back later for a second time. I’m hoping there will still be at least a 3rd time!

In the meantime, I can gaze at this lovely object I was lucky enough to bring home. It’s my first name in Arabic. I love it!

I have my name painted at the door of the Eiffel Tower by a Chinese artist! Don’t you as well?

This talented and enterprising Asian man (perhaps Chinese?) set up a small stand at the foot of the Tower and painted names for 5 Euro each. I stopped and watched him and joined in the fun.

Below, the letter L

Below, the letter a

The letter u

The letter r

The letter e

I am really partial to this, the double letter t

No, no, my favorite letter is this final a, in the shape of the Eiffel Tower!

I also commissioned him to create the name James for my son. I gave James his work of art for Christmas.