So much happens in Paris in the course of one day, that believing it sometimes means photographing it, so you can look at the images later, maybe after dinner, still sipping on a Perrier, before you settle into some other activity like emailing or dishes or playing with the dog. You flip thru photos you took only hours ago, but isn’t there often still some trace of disbelief that runs thru your mind as you view this Paris life?
You’ve suggested a terrace on the Seine on a Saturday night, it’s pleasant, though you are tired after a day when small things bothered you, and the city was chilly and gray. But the night sky opens up blue, boats go by, a sunset glows on the gold cherubs of the Pont Alexandre. You all take a cab to the Marais where throngs of people fill the streets, cafes, then there is a light show on the facade of the musee Picasso that you can’t quite believe and keep watching over and over as you talk and have dinner, the doors of the cafe open wide.
You’re running by the Eiffel to get to an author reading at the American library. It’s 7:30pm, it’s warm out, and for a moment you are walking thru a dreamscape with its iconic feat, the layer of your life, with its constant demands and frequent surprises laid on top, your own architectural achievement.
And the days go by.