Posts Tagged ‘Pont Alma’

The Light

July 21, 2018

Today was magic.

The light all day long.


I was blown away by all the different kinds of it.

The light on the Seine.


And in the sky above the Eiffel Tower as I crossed Pont Alma, a “pont” is a bridge, on my way to the American Church to see some friends this evening.

The light was also amazing coming through the church windows, but well, I don’t take pictures in churches, at least not most of the time.

I was happy to traipse through the light tonight after leaving the church to head to the Metro to go to the 11th Arrondisment to, yes, another place filled with light.

L’Atelier des Lumieres.

Oh my God.

It was extraordinary.

I mean.

I cannot quite put words to it, but there were often tears on my face as I sat in the dark listening to the beautiful music they scored the works of Klimt to as the light and color and shapes melted and merged and coalesced into all these beautiful paintings that I am so very, very fond of.


Klimt is one of my favorite artists.


So when I stumbled upon this show a few weeks back I made a mental note to myself that I would go.

And I went.

And I went after a fairly packed day of stuff previous to it, but it was perfect to go, it was actually a nice thing to do after my full day, as I sat still for close to an hour watching the show.

Previous to the show I had been at the aforementioned church way across town.

Before that a visit to Marche aux Enfant Rouge for a roasted chicken, cherries, apricots and a beautiful nectarine.

Before that shopping in the Marais.

I scored a dress!

I can’t believe I scored a dress in Paris.

It’s not always the easiest place for me to shop.

I was very, very, very happy to get the dress.

Before the shopping?


Lots and lots and lots of art.

I went to the Musee Pompidou.

They had a great exhibition from the 1930s on architecture and furniture and then I gamboled through the permanent galleries and stumbled quiet without knowing it, unto the most beautiful art film I think I may have ever seen.

It was called “The Silence of Ani,” by Francis Alys.

It was stunning and I can’t even do it justice, but it was like watching a poem unwind.

Here’s a Vimeo of it, it’s about thirteen minutes long and well worth it.

Imagine seeing it in the middle of Paris, in the afternoon with no one else in the theater with you.

Superb does not do it justice.

And before the museum?

Yes I did.

I got a tattoo.


At Abraxas, where I have gotten all my Paris tattoos, on Rue St. Merrie in the Marais.

Speaking of all the light, here’s a shot of the tattoo after my long day of running around the city, just as the sun was setting in the kitchen window of the fifth floor walk up.


And though there are probably a lot more things I can say about today.

I am also light-headed with the tiredness.

I think I will call it a night and let myself rest for a while and nibble on some of those delicious cherries I got from the market today.



Change of Plans

April 13, 2013


Not going to do it.

Not going to wait in line.

I know I only have a few more weeks left in Paris, just over two, to be exact, but I cannot bring myself to wait in line for an exhibit, even if it is free, even if it is couture, I just could not do it.

Besides, I was to meet with Corinne at 4 p.m. and I did not have the wiggle room in my schedule to wait even had I wanted to.

I went for a walk along the Seine and did one of my favorite things instead, I perused the book stalls.  I bought some post cards and I got a few small posters.

All for less than 15 Euro.

I also picked up the requested magnet to bring to my friend’s fridge in Rome–ie rent for the three days I am there.

“What are you going to do in Rome?” I was asked earlier.

Fuck if I know.

I am just going to go.

I know it is a beautiful place, and I hear it is warm and sunny.  I am very much down for the warm and sunny bit.  Since my friend does tour guiding I don’t feel like I have to do much research here, I will show up, get off the plane and let myself be led.

And should I just end up sitting in a cafe, well, then, that’s not too bad either, sitting in a cafe in Rome sounds pretty damn tight actually.

I was going through the Paris tour books in the flat this morning as I ate my oatmeal and had my morning coffee, I was thinking about what I should do and where I should go and I got tired of looking at the photographs, and the suggestions, and the maps, and the go here, do this.


I tossed the books aside and said screw it, I am done trying to figure out what more I can do while I am here.  Just being here is enough.

I have done a lot of living here and I have seen a lot of the monuments and like a person who actually lives here I am no longer much of a fan of the places that curate to the tourist.

I do not want to deal with crowds.

I do not want to stand in line.

I am just about museum’ed out.

I have been to the D’Orsay, twice, the Orangerie, the Louvre, the Pompidou, the Rodin, Musee Branly, the Musee Marmottan-Monet, the Dali museum, and Musee Carnvalet.

I think I have pretty much covered what I want to see as far as museums go.

I do not have a desire to see Versailles, though I hear it is worth the trip.

I just do not feel like taking a full day trip outside of Paris, aside from exploring Saint Germain-en-Laye when I go out to Chambourcy in two weeks.  That will be my quiet time retreat to get centered before I return state side.

I found myself plugging in the co-ordinates to the house sitting gig I am doing and Graceland where I will be staying as well as the nanny gig, and I realized, yes, once again my sense of direction is not really direct.

There is a difference between street and avenue in Oakland.

The gig is on 42nd Street.

Graceland is on 51st Avenue.

I google mapped it and it is not 9 blocks away.


It is 7.7 miles away.

Well, fuck me.

Then I thought, you know, that’s not so bad.

Fuck me.

Oh well.

Actually, it is not so bad.  It means exercise, and exercise for me is a good thing.  It means riding my bike.  Although I am sure for the first few times out I will probably take BART to get back and forth.  I am actually looking forward to riding.  The legs are a little rusty.

Rain in Paris is lovely and I like walking in it.

Riding my bicycle?

Not so much.

I have my fingers crossed that tomorrow will actually dawn bright and sunny and in the 70s as the weather forecast has promised all week.

There have been pockets of sunshine, got to step out to the park yesterday with the kids in Asniers Sur Seine, but then it blew over and hailed and thundered and flash flood rain and lightening.

It was exciting, but not really bicycle weather.

Should it actually be sunny, I plan on taking out the bike.  I will ride from the 9th into the 7th and hang out there for a while.  I have a commitment to take care of, my last time there, and two coffee dates back to back at La Tour Eiffel Cafe afterwards.

Yes, it is near the Eiffel Tower.

No, I will not be going there.

I was thinking, rather, either a trip out to Bois de Bologne.


A bicycle ride through the Marais.

I have not been there in a while and the draw of the small streets and the eclectic shops was calling to me as I skirted around Hotel de Ville trying to find the entrance to the couture exhibit.  I did briefly think about popping in and out, but time being tight I decided to just walk the Seine.

Book Stall

Book Stall

I rambled up both the Left and the Right Banks crossing over a couple of the bridges, until I found the spot I got my magnet, posters, and post-cards from.

Then I dropped down the stairs and hit the RER C and went to Pont d’Alma to ramble over to 65 Quai D’Orsay.

After a check in with Corinne and some quality time seeing people I dearly love and cherish.

Funny that, how fast you can connect with someone and create a community and love another, so much, it brings tears to your eyes to even begin to say good-bye.

“You’ll be back,” she said and hugged me tighter.

Yes, I will.


To tell you the truth, I don’t know.

I am uncertain how the rest of this falls out.

I am, however, excited to be still in one spot for a while.  To live and breathe and speak English, to not make an ass out myself in French, to get a manicure/pedicure that does not cost 50 Euro.

50 Euro!

Not that I have gone and done it, that’s just the average price you see listed on the few places that do offer the service.

I am not going to dwell long on what will happen next or where I will go next.

I am still here, still in Paris, still abroad, and despite not really being a tourist, I am putting my tourist pants on. Getting out the camera a little more and really asking myself if there is anything I have not done that I must do.

Stay present minded and enjoy the view is all that really comes up.

The view, well, it’s pretty good.

Here in Paris.



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