Hemingway spoke of Paris as his girl. I believe it was for a time. He realized of course that he was not to be her only lover as new younger lovers came courting. My Paris was Boston. Still is. However I was fortunate enough to have a trip to Paris upon graduating from college.
Enchanting, energizing, delicious, invigorating, educational, fun, dazzling, pretty, gorgeous and I felt at home although I barely could get myself fed and find my way to my destinations...I had what you would call a 'vocabulary' small though it was of French words and so if I wanted some cheese I would point and say," fromage s'il vous plaît." Parisians do appreciate a please and thank you more than most. But I was sorely lacking in my ability to have a conversation, however I'm a bit more versed now.
This is a work on paper with black acrylic and water 20 x 30 inches. Most of these word/art pieces that I have posted are about a feeling connected to an idea. They are gestures of what the physical feeling is of that moment as I remember it aligned with the poetry of movement.
I smiled frequently and the Parisians smiled back. I went to the cafe daily with my sketchbook and did quick studies of mostly German tourists who offered me money for my sketches which in turn paid for my coffee and croissants.
Certainly having mastered the subways in Boston as a kid and New York City I found the Metro a first rate ride with complete ease in getting where I wanted to go. As Joni Mitchell would later sing (of David Geffen I believe) " I was a free man in Paris, unfettered and alive!"
I did often wander around a midnight. I probably did more 'looking' in Paris than any other place I have ever visited. I suppose I was trying to absorb as much as I could hold to carry with me until I could return.
She was very kind to me and I carry the fondest of memories of that trip in a worshipful 'must get to Mecca', sort of way. Merci.
More to come....
All art copyright Alan Phillips 2016