What I learned in Paris

…My hunger is currently not for material goods but rather experiences and I can dine contentedly on the shifting beauty of a molten sky ahead. Le Bon Marché is no longer My Happy Place. It has been replaced by a wicker stool at a random streetside café. I watch and listen.

…that I am no longer intimidated or apologetic to meet an Instagram friend and to make that contact real; And that I agree with what said friend stated as we parted ways, champagne double-clinked, that I will make things good wherever I go. That I bring color to Paris makes me blush, however, still.

…that Art is a fraction of the biggest Dream made solid. And we might die without it (or perhaps we already are, yet fighting it). And I don’t care how dramatic that sounds. The wings are there if only we let them lift.

…that I am strong enough in my sense of self to go to the Hotel Crillon as if I belong there. Because I do. And that isn’t about money. Every seat at the bar was taken but I will return and try again. Even the oldest classics can be reborn.

…that I am not afraid of the rain.

…that I can introduce myself at an event at Déco Off as a writer and a photographer. Because, despite appearances, I am. I tend to forget.

…I saw that I can talk to anyone and engage with them as human to human, direct. And what a gift of existence that is. One that I have earned. I had to go all the way down to know how connected we are and how simply.

…I remembered again, again, again. That I am Open and that I am Stronger than I think. 

This trip was an invitation by my friends at Atelier Vime as part of their self-pronounced “Make Heather Robinson Great Again,” program…which made me laugh so hard. It still does…I am a ready and willing recepient…thank you, friends.