Paris 2012 Diary: Day One, Paris Walk With Me

 Arrived at Coco's a little late, but not jet-lagged due to a wide swath of seat on the plane ride over and because of an awesome 2 hour layover in Heathrow in which I got to 1. eat breakfast at Wagamama, 2. Shop at Boots and load up on this and this, then to Jo Malone to smell this and then 3. promptly fall asleep on the runway waking up to a very foggy Paris morning. Pics of Chez Coco, window on the left, camellias in the courtyard (la cour) about to bloom although it's been a colllllld winter here. Settled in a bit and went for what was going to be a short walk to the supermarché....

 

 

but decide to go up a different rue...

 What's this? Passing such a nice bookstore! What else is on this street?

curving around the Polytechnic (nice nest in that tree!)... 

 

such nice curves: past cafes, tabacs, a menu that looked nice enough to eat...

  

But wait? What the? Paris is popping its gothic shizz all out at me already. Ok. I have to accept this as fact. It was bound to happen. Must. Walk. Up. This. Street. (Arms out, in trance, like Frankenstein). MUST. TAKE. CLOSER. LOOK.

 

 Cute fucking Parisian restaurants. And Cocojazz. A record shop. Cocojazz? As in, to Cocojazz, or "I spent all night Cocojazzing and still haven't figured out my taxes". But then that Gothic thing. And that Roman Capital Intensly Huge Building thing aka the Pantheon? Must. Get. There.

 

A Church. A very famous church it turned out, one that if I gave a shit about anything besides work when I'm here, I'd know, contained the crypt of Saint Genevieve (Pronounce softly: ZHoNVEEevve), the patron sainte of Paris. Eglise St-Etienne du Mont, the church a tight, ancient, graceful lug, hugging a corner lot, whose body sits on top of the original abby where Genevieve lived in 1222 spanning 1492-1630. It was then my mind and me remembered Paris is mostly lucky--it is surrounded daily by its history, lurking at any corner you are confronted by something medieval, reminders of Lutetia, reminders of every period that followed, the elegance of Hausman, reminders we are far from home...

 

And then there's that Pantheon, which was too big for my camera, too big for me to decide to go inside at 4:30pm and too big for me to comprehend. And across the way:

 

Liberté, egalité, mutualité. Let's remember that as we walk away.

 

Apparently this pharmacy cannot be visited touristically.

(even if the tourist in question has a big headache from all the ancient shit going on across the street? Touristically speaking that is.)

 

Suddenly I realize it was a really grey day. Gris. Gray. But I don't care because I've been walking for 2 hours and I'm walking in Paris. Can you see the top of the Eiffel Tower popping out from behind the Luxembourg Gardens? Paris. So many ways to know you are in Paris. It cannot be any other place--the incredible thing about Paris. This is my 14th visit, my French still sucks and I don't care that it's grey, it's cold and I'm jetlagging. But I turn around, still in Paris...

 

 Past this nice rail. R is for rail. But who is Eliot?

 

Past the little square Paul Painlevé , where Remus and Romulus hang out behind the Musée de Cluny, reminding us that Lutéce was once a Roman town...

 

More from the Middle Ages. 

But what's up with the seashells? Anyone? Anyone?

Does anyone read Benedictine?

More tomorrow mes amies!

A Day, a Week and then Paris

Morning, 7am: Chez Bon, smell the fleurs, soak beans so there's something to eat later, revel in the sunshine as it streams in, (thank whomever for landing us a place with this much light), walk around aimlessly for a few minutes, book tickets to Paris which purchase has been procrastinated until the last possible minute all the while cursing mileage tickets that offer the worst combination of flights say, NYC-Dallas-Zurich-Paris but think how many miles that would rack up until coming to senses, think how nice the design of the Paris metro map is, think about going to Morocco after Paris, morning dishes, walk into studio...

10am: work straight through til lunch, fill orders, brainstorm new collection, figure stuff out, kick off a little early since every day's been jam packed with waiting for design inspiration, sniffing it out, feel it coming on, finally breaking through, making it happen and then on top there's sorting tax crap, getting shop orders out and walking around aimlessly.

Lunch time: look through David Austin catalog, both curse P. and love P. for getting me hooked on this beautiful rose stuff, take this opportunity to decide on some climbers to go up the tiny fire escape because frankly, it will cheer me up to see them climb and if there's a fire, what's a few thorns in your ass between neighbors as long as its aesthetically pleeeezing?

4:30pm: Wind down into late afternoon at Chez nous, plan out the next week until my flight, map out a birthday adventure for Jim, think about my dearth of clothing, veer into evening mode and a quiet one at home before leaving les plantes et les chats with the greatest chat/plante sitter ever* 

Wind it on down, get ready for what's in France for me...

For Whitney Houston, Supernova, with Love

 

For Whitney Houston, goodbye, the small core, your powerful voice, your artistry, you leave us everything, a remnant large enough for this new black hole. You will be missed.

{Life Cycle}

...Young stars at this stage are called protostars. As they develop they accumulate mass from the clouds around them and grow into what are known as main sequence stars. Main sequence stars like our own sun exist in a state of nuclear fusion during which they will emit energy for billions of years by converting hydrogen to helium.

Stars evolve over billions of years. When their main sequence phase ends they pass through other states of existence according to their size and other characteristics. The larger a star's mass, the shorter its lifespan will be.

As stars move toward the end of their lives much of their hydrogen has been converted to helium. Helium sinks to the star's core and raises the star's temperature—causing its outer shell to expand. These large, swelling stars are known as red giants.

The red giant phase is actually a prelude to a star shedding its outer layers and becoming a small, dense body called a white dwarf. White dwarfs cool for billions of years, until they eventually go dark and produce no energy. At this point, which scientists have yet to observe, such stars become known as black dwarfs.

A few stars eschew this evolutionary path and instead go out with a bang—detonating as supernovae. These violent explosions leave behind a small core that may become a neutron star or even, if the remnant is large enough, a black hole.

-Excerpt from Stars, Billions and Billions From National Geographic 

photo credit: Larry Landolfi

A Long Time and Growing a Little at a Time

*

Today I am waking up in front of something new. 

Last night, I remembered that I've been writing down things in this blog since January 2007. Years later, at a slow pace, the water still flows, we move with it without much choice, Our Destiny is Stone Golden. Seems like a long time when you put it that way. Things were practically analog back then. So much has happened to us all in those years: babies have been born to some, sometimes two. Books have been published, sometimes two. People have tried hard, struggled, accomplished, given up. Companies have grown beyond wildest dreams, we have traveled and journeyed, We've made friendships, sometimes bonding stronger than we could have imagined, we have grown roses and figs together, we have lost things incredibly important to us only to find we could take solace here with each other, our faces have changed, our bodies have changed, our minds have changed.

Right after I remembered how long this blog has been alive and waxed nostalgic about it, (this blog should be in the first grade by now) I thought of this:

 mom & brother kerbis

*

My uncle Curt, my mother's brother, who lives in the house behind hers turned 90 in December. He is an expert at growing bonsai, a retirement hobby I think, is how it started. There are about 25 little trees in his backyard. He carefully prunes them with tiny shears and when it's Spring he calls me over to see the minute azaleas blooming or when it's fall he says, come look at the Japanese maple leaves-"how they've changed color! That's something right?" 
I grew up with these, like ancient worlds in miniature, created by a giant, and I could never help but touch the leaves, explore inside the branches, search along the small rolling expanse of moss where the roots tangle along and there are small mail-ordered ceramic houses with curling rooftops, imagining the Samurai at rest or the philosopher in his window:

*

A Farewell To Secretary Shuyun At The Xietiao Villa In Xuanzhou

Since yesterday had to throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wild geese have a long wind for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the School of Heaven,
And I am a Lesser Xie growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.
But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing boat. 

-Li Po

Next week I say goodbye to Vanessa, an era will end, a new one will begin.

January here and up there

 

January and some indoor bloomage.

Hello Passion Flower! Who knew you would do so well indoors?

The paperwhites have since shot up--before and afters would be so much more exciting. Or as exciting as indoor plants get. This is the extent of excitement lately. And I say, "fine with me." And now a word from Lake Placid, New York:

Lake Placid, NY is where we ended up in lieu of a border crossing to Canada for a little country respite in a snowy winter wonderland after New Years. And people it was colllllllllllld.

But we loved it. After a few days of 0ºF, 20ºF seemed pretty warm. 

 There were dog sleds on frozen Mirror Lake. And we took frozen walks followed by fireplaces, hot chawklits/toddys.

And guess which New York chick traded in her fashion booties for some cross country skis? This chick!! Me! And Jim loved it too! And guess what I learned? A very friendly Olympic town that took us by surprise in the mountains, a beautiful little inn with a fireplace, and teaching ourselves to cross-country ski was by far, one of the finest and very romantic ways to bring in the New Year. Who knew?