Yesterday morning the fog covered the hills above the village like a cupped hand. Everything was a bit muted, even the birds seemed to be humming under their wings. It took me back to my few hours roaming through Paris not so long ago.
For then too it was a gray day but my heart began pumping it with color so that I was painting outside the lines.
You see, I had a friend to meet. Isn’t it something…an anticipation that builds until it whirls like a carrousel?
I could hardly focus on my surroundings but focus I did or at least I tried. To see Paris for Paris’ sake…
…and that meant taking in not one but two art exhibitions in the space of nearly as many hours.
It was exceptional to see the City of Light as loved by the photographers of the Magnum collective. So many of the city’s most classic moments were captured and defined by photographers such as Henri Cartier-Bresson that I felt floating free in a past where I felt I belonged despite having never been.
It was a bit of time out of time until I stepped outside the Hotel de Ville and was reminded of recent events that had shocked the world, putting me smack back into 2015.
And yet La Conciergerie was mere steps away and I could nearly hear Marie Antoinette crying to be freed from her prison cell there…
…or Audrey Hepburn joyously shouting “Take the picture! Take the picture!” while floating past The Winged Victory of Samothrace at the Louvre.
Is this why we love Paris?
It is the host to so many of our stories – the imaginary, the real or those dancing in-between.
All we have to do is somehow place ourselves in that unique landscape, put a finger to the wind and pull on the blur.
As the night shrouded Paris in the fogs opposite, I boarded the train for Provence.
The doors to the TGV slid together, shutting sound and the wheels rolled out until I couldn’t hear them anymore. I took my camera out of my bag and set it in my lap. It held my story – or at least what it had been for those few hours. My cheek felt cool against the window as the bright lights dissolved. Paris was letting me go.
“Au revoir,” I whispered. Until we meet again.
Judi, your comment made me smile. Oh, I know all too well! When I first moved here I couldn't figure out why the clothes weren't getting clean in the wash…it was because I was buying fabric softener instead of detergent! 🙂 While you are at Carrefour – and even better is the Monoprix that is not far from the Cafe des Deux Magots – look in the tapenade/spreads section (usually by the olives) for products from Jean Martin. They are from Provence and are really good – just not on a cookie! Also, don't forget to buy plenty of Fleur de Sel du Camargue – sea salt. It really is the best!!!
Helen, Paris would be such an enormous source of inspiration for your work that I bet that a visit there could be a tax write-off!
Beautifully put, Tracy. I will.
Karena, you would love it…I can just imagine…
Emilia, I think that you are an empath. I am too but it is a phrase that I only learned of recently. I think it is a wonderful trait in you!
I would so love for us to have a few days there together like we did oh so many years ago!! Love you Sister.
I'm loving your posts on Paris, as we are right now in our apt in St Germain des Pres, renting for a month. I have been by, in, near many of these beautiful places, and having a long time to really savor so much sweet Paris has to offer has been pure luxury. I even enjoy going grocery shopping at Carrefour – now is that a cookie or a biscuit or a cracker! Just try putting cheese and salami on a cookie – I know 'biscuit is a cookie, but it looked so much like a cracker!!! I could live here forever!! It feels 'right.!! I love your photos I admire you being able to select just a few for your post – that is always my challenge, I want to look at everyone of my pics and show them to everyone – they make me fall in love over and over, with this amazing city and just with life!