Paris Part 2

I wrote this last month while in Paris. It seems to capture what I was seeing and feeling pretty well, the time I was there.

Day 8 Paris: And now I am full. Satiated with drink and food. Paris is for foodies, but not for gluttons, and there is a difference. One enjoys food here, the serving of it, the banter with waiters and the couples at the other tables around you, the deciphering of the menus, the choosing of wines, the different courses, and the long lingering pleasurable relaxed time it all takes. It is 12:15 am, and we have just rolled in from dinner at a French restaurant. The entree was scallops in butter on the half-shell, on a plate of rock salt, dinner was cassoulet of pork, bacon, ham and legumes, dessert was the richest and thickest chocolate sorbet known to humankind and the wine....well....I was going to crawl into the bottle, but....

The day began, as they all do, with a walk to the metro, and we took the train to the Invalides station, where we met Jennifer, one of our local hosts. Walked across the Pont Alexandre III to a brasserie for a light repast of orange juice, and cafe (always cafe for me). On the way there was a tunnel for the road that parallels the Seine, heading east, and on the top of the tunnel at its entrance was a replica of the Statue of Liberty's flame. "Oh, interesting", I thought; but it turns out that this was the tunnel where the Princess Diana lost her life and there were notes and flowers left at the base of the flame. After our repast we walked over to the Quai Branly museum for this exhibit, which was endlessly fascinating :http://www.quaibranly.fr/en/programmation/exhibitions/currently/the-sources-of-aborigine-painting.html

So far, and I may re-think this statement, but so far this may have been the best art I have seen here, and we still have the Hopper exhibit tomorrow. Yes, I know, better than the Mona Lisa, better than any Ingres, better than the Van Goghs? Well, yes and no. No because Van Gogh stomps anyone and everyone else, and the Mona Lisa is the epitome of sublime, and I so wanted to run out of the Louvre with one of its Ingres (they have so many, surely they wouldnt miss one!). But, "The Sources of Aboriginal Painting" flipped my lid like no art has done for quite some time. I dont want to call it primitive, because its only "primitive" from a Western viewpoint; I think it better to call it simple, in that its using a very limited palette and very limited motifs: a few circles, wavy lines, dots, a rectangular object here and there....and thats about it. And yet, the emotion that is conveyed, the spiritual meanings that pour off the canvasses, is quite powerful and beautiful. 

And, speaking of powerful and beautiful, a short walk from Quai Branly put us on the short shopping street of the Rue Cler, small lunch of stuffed raviolis in cream sauce and cafe (quel naturel) and then a 3 block stroll to the promenade of the Eiffel Tower. Yes, the Tower is visible from just about anywhere in Paris and yes, it is instantly recognizable as one of the world's more famous landmarks and yes yes, you dont realize how beautiful, stunning, and simply amazing it all is until Bam! its right there in front of you. Graceful in design, yet exhuding a sense of power, it doesnt so much squat as it almost dances; because it is not a solid object, you can see thru it, because of this it is not some squat solid tower, it has soft curved lines that start far apart and come to a point, thus it doesnt sit and look ugly (and feel ugly in the way too many towers do), but invites you in to enjoy its space. Anyways, we strolled thru, underneath, crossed the Seine and walked up the hill to the Trocadero for the best view of the Tower. We then caught the metro, back to Jennifer and Ofer's apartment, and then went out to our dinner, described above. Et Viola!

-photo by Melissa Massie