I’ve been thinking of
lately. The other night Adam and I
watched “Midnight in Paris” and I was enthralled
with all the beautiful, cliché images of Paris. The Paris
I know from my two visits as a teenager.
Oh dear, as a teenager, I just didn’t get it then.
Paris still holds a
special spot for me because of several reasons.
It was the last trip my sister and I took with my father. It was also my first glimpse of a life that
existed outside my realm. That you could
eat chocolate croissants and hot chocolate for BREAKFAST and it was perfectly
acceptable. That art can exist on every
I came back from my first trip to
almost embarrassed. What 14 year old
goes to Paris
on Spring Break? I didn’t want to brag and carry on about the croissants, the
view from the Eifel tower, the flowers, the
museums (“the croissants were so buttery and warm…”) I wasn’t sure what to say
really, so I totally down played it. “Oh,
you know, it was Paris,
the Eiffel tower was big”. I knew that
trip was a life-changer, I just couldn’t put into words.
The second trip was such a whirl-wind. Montmarte, sidewalk artists, a girl that tumbled down the stairs on the Rue Foyatier, I could smack myself.
So, my thoughts keep returning to
Paris. I want to embrace it in my so-called adult
life. See it with grown-up eyes. Sit and people watch by the Seine. Eat copious amounts of chocolate
croissants. Go to the flea markets and
soak it all in. Perhaps, Milo will drive me.