Strolling

I have been in Paris now for a few days. The jetlag has subsided, and I am beginning to establish a rhythym to my days. I find getting up around 7 to be a joy. The city is still waking and there is a yawning serenity to the river water and even the quality of the morning light. I have been going for runs along the Seine at this time, crossing for the right bank to the Ille St Louis to the Cite and then back again. The few people out, are either others running like me, wait staff preparing for the day, or (my favorite) an older woman with a proper little pooch, coffee-ing and smoking on St Louis at the same little cafe every morning. After a lite jog, I'm back to the apartment. The view from my room is exquisite, sitting in sharp contrast to the austerity and blandness on the interior (a constant reminder of the work I want to make to liven it up). I can see the bell towers of Notre Dame and a see treetops out my window whose greenery all most fully conceals the river below. 

I spent the majority of my first few days exploring the flea market at Port de Vaunes and Les Puces. I got a few little gems to use in my work, as well as a bakelite cuff. Les Puces was something else. It was the largest allotment of antique and modern furniture and smalls I have ever seen in one place! Not to mention clothes, shoes jewelry and other oddities. The quality and rarity of some of the items with just spectacular. In fact, as we americans may understand "flea market", this weekly event really qualifies... More of a permanent bazaar of sorts. A shoppers (or scavenger's) paradise.  In these first few days of exploration, I have also realized how much french I have forgotten. Its a bit embarrassing to admit. Its coming back ever so slowly... Aside from the markets, I have re-introduced myself to the Latin Quarter and the Marais... the Cupid and Physche at the Louvre, and Notre Dame.

I discovered an old friend, briefly in Paris, and we went out for fondue and gelato last night. What a surprise coincidence to see him and catch up. Only to the few of your reading this blog might I admit the almost oppressive loneliness my first few days. I feel almost guilty mentioning it, but as Mike (a much more seasoned traveler than myself) said, its the reality of it and its okay to feel that way. Just gushing about the good things isn't always the full truth of experiencing.  For the time being, the lonliness has abaited especially since meet with him, and I feel relief in my excitement for September on my own in Paris. It is brief and fleeting and all at once a small forever.

Diverting from my early morning routine, I slept in late this morning. (I blame with love, Bryan, Mom and Dad for two late night skyp-ing conversations.) Today, the weather is great. Sunny but with a cool breeze, not too hot at all. I strolled to Shakespeare and Co. this morning, grabbing a pain au raison (a great buying experience unlike most). I bought A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and cuddled down with the floor to ceiling shelves of books for 1/2 hour or so. I am heading to the fabric stores this afternoon. I will most likely go to de Louvre afterwards, although it is already almost 1. I am looking for material to put shame to the quilting and cotton jersy of the midwest, I respectful poo poo your pathetic inventory. Life is great.