After a flurry of busy days (live opera, two years later!!; dinner at daughter’s; long walks; tickets to the “slow launch” of a new restaurant in the neighbourhood; Italian class, etc.), I’ve landed on a couple of sick days. “Hello,” says the body that carries me ’round. “What were you thinking?”
So I’m taking it slow, and light. . . back to Paris with a few photo-memories, these ones examples of the free visual treats the City of Light offers to alert passers-by. . .
Some of whom stop with their cameras to snap a quick shot of an Iris Apfel caricature. . .
or of these pixel tile mosaics that have become ubiquitous through Paris (many of them attributed to an artist known as Invader).
I was more interested in the wheat-paste figure below the tile mosaic art — and I’m curious about what was torn away — such an evocative work, those rich matte colours, the curved geometric shapes of the garments, something about the combination of the eyes (glasses? without frames?) and the hair that is both contemporary and, to me, somehow medieval. . . . Arresting, anyway (and that little video-game guy, above, thinks so as well — I love the way his square black eyes interact with the round black eyes below. Both figures so stylized in their different ways.
And then another block along, this work caught my eye (Paul, walking just a bit ahead of me because I’m always catching up after having stopped to exclaim at this or take a photo of that, missed it completely).
Of course, I stopped to admire and wonder and then read the interpretative plaque:
The 2017 work by Stéfane Perraud, High Frequency Designs (or Sketches, or Drawings) was chosen for a program (SOFERIM) that sponsors public art in Paris.
My rough translation of the second paragraph: “A flat antenna, shaped like ivy, camouflages the outside of a building. It intercepts the high-frequency waves coming from the sky or from faraway shores. This data, applied in real time to a graphic calendar, is translated from day to day in a series of original sketches. This drawing machine, listening to a world that it pirates and transforms, thus renders legible the ephemeral fresco of the waves that cross us (go through us, surround us, pass us).”
See? Isn’t that worth coming to a full stop on le trottoir? Génial, non? Cool!!
Even this window for a Boxing Studio . . .
Art everywhere. . . It’s Paris!
But maybe you’d like to see something more romantic before I’m done.
What about these photos from a window way across the city? The photos above were all taken in the 9th arrondissement, I believe, but the ones below are from a shop somewhere on Rue Fleurus (if I remember correctly) close to the Luxembourg Garden.
A frothy confection of a bridal-shop window. . .
and you don’t even need me to translate . . . .
But because that printing might be too small to read easily, and because the advice is good, I’ll write it out for you anyway:
“List of things to do every day
- Read a poem.
- Listen to a piece of music (or look at a piece of art). — And note that between this post and my last one, we’ve got the art covered already
- Eat good food.
- Create something.
- Express gratitude for something.
- Have DIRECT experience of life.
- Drink tea.
- Touch the earth.
- Stop getting to work on time.
- Love with an open heart.
- Go for a walk at the Luxembourg. Okay, this last one was surely added by the shop owner, inspired by proximity to that garden. We will have to find our own best substitutes, right?
Okay, you have your assignments now. And I’m going to have direct experience of a comfortable resting position on my couch where I will drink tea and read a poem and be grateful for your company. . . and I’ve created this post. Good start, right?
Let me know if you’ve touched the earth or managed to arrive late at your workplace or loved with an open heart today. Eating good food, reading poetry, listening to music — share any and all of these direct experiences. Thank you in anticipation.
xo,
f
Love drinking wine and tea but lately started worrying that it was staining my teeth. Also, found out I’m allergic to mold and, therefore, was told to avoid wine, cheese and mushrooms – what?! Those things were my reasons for living ! Lately it seems my body is betraying me. So yes, drinking tea and reading poetry and taking walks are things that make life lovely.
Author
I get that sense, too, of being betrayed by my (ageing!) body! I drink less tea (and wine, for that matter, and eat less cheese) these days than I used to, but I’d hate to give them up entirely. Luckily we can still walk and read. . . . 😉
Very good start:). I’m glad you’re taking some down time, and I hope you feel better in your own sweet time.
Thank you for the Paris walls. So nice to see signs of city life again.
Author
Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed the stroll through Paris — I loved hiking vicariously with you on those dry hills a week or two ago, such a change of scene!
You seem to have perfected the art of noticing the smaller or easily missed things . I try to do the same but it often means we are scurrying along after our partners or else calling them back to notice too . Hope you are feeling better soon .
Author
Yep, that’s exactly what it means: either scurrying along after or calling him back. Sometimes I really just have to head out on my own, but he’s pretty patient.
Thank you for letting us know about the Monsieur Mediocre book! I got it at the library and found most of the essays enjoyable.
I hope you feel better.
Author
Oh, I’m glad you enjoyed most of it. I’ll admit to a weakness for memoirs about ex-pat life.
And thank you. I felt much better after a good day’s rest.
always happy to see pictures of Paris. I spent far too little time there a couple of years ago and mostly the “Paris greatest hits” so nice to see these small special places. Actually about two or three years ago I bought an anthology of Mary Oliver’s poetry . I keep it on my bedside table. the idea is that I would read a selection daily, before bedtime. unfortunately it has to compete with books for book club, library books which I need to return, ones my daughter passes to me, my literary magazine which comes monthly and material for the discussion group I belong to. when I do I am always rewarded. in my home there are three things I must have and if I do not there will have to be a shopping trip, tea, the milk for it and my fussy cat Linus’ special food.
I am happy you are feeling better Frances.
Author
Thanks, Darby.
Keeping a volume of poetry on the nightstand is a good idea, but it’s so true that the books at our bedside often become invisible to us in competition with new additions. . . but still, every so often we pick those up and realize our good intentions!
Yep, I can do without the cat food, since I don’t have a feline friend anymore, but tea and the milk for it (and for my morning muesli) are indispensable!
Love your snapshots of Paris. How many of us would walk right past these small gems? I have an entire book of similar photos of the “Curiosities of Paris” and I enjoy just browsing through it from time to time, dreaming of the day (perhaps next spring) when I too will again stroll the city’s streets.Meanwhile, I have your blog!
Author
Aw, thanks for the kind words, Frances! I’m pleased you enjoy these posts.
Thanks for the Paris stroll. Far too easy to miss the little things that can make life more interesting if one only lifts the eyes once in a while.
Must be the week for illness. Managed to catch strep this week–though how is a mystery as I hadn’t left the house in ten days. Nor had I been around any others than DH (who still goes out to work). So I blamed him. Of course, he’s just fine. 🙂 Hope you’re feeling better. Have drunk enough tea myself this week to float the Queen Mary.
FYI – Didn’t get an email notification on this particular post. Luckily, I have your blog bookmarked so decided to check and there was a new post.
Author
I’m so sorry you have strep throat, Mary! Seems fair to blame DH if you haven’t left the house, not so fair that he has no symptoms, but at least he can be a good nurse? I’m mostly better myself, just some lingering fatigue . . .
And I know the email notification didn’t go out, again. I’m hoping to get some help with it soon (still waiting to hear back), and I’m so glad to have a few readers like you who come to check on me/the blog when we’re silent for longer than usual.
I’m sorry you’ve been in well – I hope you’ve fully recovered now – and how kind you are to make time to share more of your recent trip. Christmas preparations have slowed my blog reading and commenting. But I always read eventually, and this post so captured my imagination that I wanted to let you know. I’m unsure if or when I might travel overseas again. Europe beckons but the pandemic is an issue and so is my uncertainty about how I’d manage the more normal rigours of travel. You are a keen observer and your insights on street (and other) art are always welcome. Small things can bring great joy in cities and towns, just as they can in nature. The whimsy and variety of the street art you’ve selected made me think about how we interact with our environment, where we can look for joy and connection, and the importance of creativity and beauty. Paris is truly a city of great art, including that contained in its glorious museums and galleries, that freely offered by its magnificent streetscapes and the smaller delights that can be found if only we really look, or just look up.