Comments (3) I’m having a tough week. Lots of work. When I get home, it’s a bit difficult to get the load off. I want to relax, but it is as if my system was still running full speed. At times like these I look for detachment in art and entertainment. Beautiful bright colors can do wonders on my mood. The below pictures were taken at my fave’ Paris hangout, the Museum of Modern Art.
Paris has changed me. Before the city of light years, I used to be a vodka-cooler allured, a mango-flavored cider striven gal – and then I got to France and realized that champagne was actually within my reach, that rosé was not just a mix of leftover reds and whites and that the only cider around was very bitter, nothing to do with the candy-tasting magic potions I used to gulp down with the gals before a fun night out. So in my thirties, I’ve found a new passion. Tasting and letting my senses float me afar.
I feel like I’m slowly getting the stronghold over the cold that’s been bugging me for over two weeks. It’s almost as if I was emerging from a misty cloud. My senses reopen. My thoughts get a brighter tone. This is the way I recognize myself. I took the below photo during my last climb up the Eiffel Tower. Paris inveigles me with all her resplendent bridges. They all seem to have a personality. From modest to cocky. They weave together the artistic left bank to the commercial right bank. Of course the division is not so clear cut – life never is.
Dark chocolate, a glass of Brut Champagne, a touch of Chanel cream… these are my weapons against the dim November weather that has been lingering over Paris for the past few days. Sebu had his birthday, and of course my beloved bubbly beverage was invited to my sweetheart’s festivities. I equally rushed to the corner bakery to get us creamy, chocolaty treats.
I feel that I’m settling down more and more to Paris. After six years, it indeed feels like home. We have started to look for an apartment to purchase. The first mortgage is lurking around the corner. Big yet exiting decisions. The center of Paris is calling me, and thus my understanding hubby alike.
Paris is first and foremost black and white to me. I love browsing its multitudinous bookstores and fiddling all the captured moments that postcard pictures carry. There’s something utterly elegant in noir et blanc. Maybe the juxtaposition, contrasts between shadow and light – just as life itself. Good moments are followed by gloomier sequences, and then the sun reappears. The fall has been very beautiful here in Paris this year. Lots of gentle sunshine and ambrosial colors all around.
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