Monday, January 25, 2016

poetic pastel

jeez, another Paris post?
aren't you tired, same bla bla.
well, i ain't. how can you be tired of an endless city?

rue saint-dominique, rue les cases, 5 floors of old stairs that seem like forever, pont alexandre III, boulevard saint-germain, jardins des tuileries, the galleries around literally every corner, the cafés, the height of the trees and buildings next to people, the white and black of the palais royal, the pigeons with their love locks, the fashionistas, the saint-honoré &other stories boutique with all its gems, the poetic way in which someone is enjoying a chair and the airy atmosphere around and the small but privileged view from the studette window.
all are priceless.
no matter the circumstances of past or present, memories makes us so, so rich inside.

Friday, January 15, 2016

douceur de l'imperceptible

"if you are fortunate, the memory will be more recent than childhood. the repeated lines of words and music are like paths. these paths are circular and the rings they make are linked together like those of a chain. you walk along these paths and are led by them in circles which lead from one to the other, further and further away. the field upon which you walk and upon which the chain is laid is the song. 

into the silence, which was also at times a roar, of my thoughts and questions forever returning to myself to search there for an explanation of my life and its purpose, into this concentrated tiny hub of dense silent noise, came the cackle of a hen from a nearby back garden, and at that moment that cackle, its distinct sharp-edged existence beneath a blue sky with white clouds, induced in me an intense awareness of freedom.”