My Time in Paris: Impressions

To be quite honest, this blog is the most intimidating since I would like to share how I felt about each site, but I fear I will lack the diction to give you the full spectrum of it's beauty, but here goes ...

Notre Dame:

Just look at her beauty.  I couldn't stop staring at the intricate details, from the Rose Window to the Gargoyles that are everywhere.  A story is told through the miniature statues the follow along the entire church.  The grounds that surround it are as peaceful.  I just watched the other visitors looking at it with the same trance-like look that I assume I had.  By choice, I walked around it several times, and each time, I saw a different part ... stunning.

The Arc du Triomphe:

In my earlier blog, I wrote about seeing this magnificent site
with a quickness that didn't allow me to see it all.  But from
the street, I could still see why it is a consistent draw to
travelers ... unlike most sites in Paris, one can see its contrast
to cars ...  speechless, really.


The Streets:

This picture is taken from a small window on the second floor of a Creperie in Sacre Coeur ... right by the bathroom.  (That just adds to the charm.)  In one of my blogs, I have a picture of my signature left in the Creperie (Reviving Krista: French Kiss), and it might be one of my favorite spots in Paris.  From Sacre Couer, I could see all of Paris, and as the hundreds of others were doing, I just stared ...  As crowded as it is, the streets are lined with charming beauty of the buildings, the windows -- it's an ambience I can't explain.  And as my mother kept explaining, small cafes are the essence of Paris.  The small tables are crammed together, putting the patrons within "earshot" ... but it does not matter.  Each is just enjoying life.  I can't wait to return ... just so sit and eat and drink and write and live ...





The Eiffel Tower:

I saved her for the end.  I don't know why a structure of iron affected me so greatly, but she did, from the first accidental sighting to every other angle I could see.  Just like Notre Dame, it was hard to not look, not stare, not shake my head in utter amazement.  **Note:  this next statement applies to the Netherlands and Greece as well .  Thought:   As intelligent as our world has grown throughout history, I am in awe of what history shows us of our pasts ... could we argue that our the cultures of our past are seemingly more creative societies without technology, though ... ?

What else can I say.  She is beautiful.  She is surrounded by beautiful gardens, beautiful lawns, beautiful people (all people become beautiful in her presence ...)

I may have missed a few essential sites, especially the Rodin and the Catacombs, on my short trip, but that just has me planning my next trip.  Paris is chaotic with its size and its Metro, but it does has a aura that defines it differently from everywhere else.

In all, the best part, I loved each stop on my journey for a different reason, so to answer everyone's question:  I didn't have a favorite, really, because each place told me its story and I listened ...

I Used to Dance ... Now I Swim

I did dance.  Just for fun.  I would dance around my house whenever I heard a song on the radio or at the end of a movie. (And I'm sure it wasn't pretty.)  In fact, one of my favorite memories is when my daughter was little, and we would dance together, for instance, at the end of a movie. (So many movies I could name here.)  Oh, the silliness.  But how fun.  What happened?

Life.  A change in perspective.  A shift in my essence.  But no longer ... I'm going to dance ... and swim!

Look at me now ...


All it takes is a swim in the Aegean Sea: The Before



 

I remember that girl who used to dance ... a lover of life (an earlier blog), just as I spoke of the symbolic swim in the water (also an earlier blog).  Yes, she is reborn.  She is smiling again ... just because.  Oh, how I like her.




The After

 When I look at where I've been to where I am now, I just need to remember to celebrate the journey.  Each step.  Much like the message in Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea, a memorable essay I read in my high school Humanities course with a phenomenal English teacher Janet Stumpf, one of many who impacted my thinking, I stood with my feet in the water of the North Sea and the Aegean Sea, and I felt contentment.  Reflecting on the beach of each one and breathing in the air, the cool water reminded me I was alive, and the vastness of the view remind me that life is infinite to our own eyes.  (My attempt to be philosophical.)



The North Sea

 Lindbergh says, "Perhaps this is the most important thing for me to take back from beach-living: simply the memory that each cycle of the tide is valid; each cycle of the wave is valid; each cycle of a relationship is valid. And my shells? I can sweep them all into my pocket. They are only there to remind me that the sea recedes and returns eternally." 

(Isn't this what Melville infers in Moby Dick, although a much darker experience?)  A later blog.

I think of the many shells I've collected (literally and figuratively), the many steps I've taken ... I can't wait to collect more!

The steps ...
       The journey ...
              The possibilities ....


The North Sea



The Aegean Sea (with Debi)