singing gargoyles

You might think that someone with a couple of music degrees would have a vast number of the most beautiful songs running through her head while wandering the streets of Paris, perhaps French art-song or cabaret, for example.  Though I know I have these types of resources to draw on, Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" is relentlessly prominent...

"...Paris the city of lovers is glowing this evening...True, that's because it's on fire, but still, there's l'amour..."

Resistance to these sorts of things is futile, and so I've decided to embrace it, even singing outloud as I walk these streets.  Afterall, these are streets that would inspire anyone to break out into song. Like Rome, the city itself feels like a museum.  You can go into actual museums should you wish, but there is culture, history, life, brimming from its monuments, buildings, parks, and people.  Yes, I am content to be in Paris.

On my first night here, after the aforementioned freak-out busride, I settled into my hostel, got out a map of the city and my trusty Lonely Planet book (thanks, Sawa!), and began making a list of the must-sees.  It was a long list - this is Paris, afterall. And then, I seriously re-considered this giant list, in light of the spirit of my trip, my seeking for closure, my need for stillness. Perhaps my final 5 nights should have been spent in a cabin in the woods somewhere. :)  So yes, re-considered, and realized I have more than enough self-discipline and love to NOT allow myself to see everything on the list, despite the fact that I am in Paris and not a remote cabin.  I have a little notebook that I have been carrying with me, the closest thing to a calendar I have seen in 3 months, where I record information about accomodations, travel, and so on, for each day. I wrote Monday's date, and wrote in big letters: "NO MUSEUMS ALLOWED".  So, the list has been refined.  Lots of sight-seeing yesterday, and yes, probably a bunch more today (afterall, I really should go see the gargoyles that sing this song that is continually playing in my mind), but with a spirit of staying connected to a greater intention.  From there, I'm imagining spending my final two days in this city drinking strong French coffee in charming little cafés while writing in my journal to my heart's content.

Yesterday was a pretty cliché sort of first day in Paris, but I suppose cliché in these parts is cliché for good reason.  L'Arc de Triomphe, for example, in the middle of the world's largest traffic circle is quite a grand and imposing sight. I enjoyed gazing upon its statuary almost as much as I enjoyed sitting and watching the cars, buses, and motorcycles going around and around this loop, honking, cutting each other off (there's no choice, really), and wondering how this possibly works.  Somehow it does, though. I walked along the Seine, and found my way to the Eiffel Tower, where I walked up the stairs to the second platform, gazed out across the city and all of its famous landmarks and spires, and realized just how huge and dense this place is.  A funny thing about travelling becoming regular life, as it has for me this past while, is that it becomes "normal" to be in beautiful places, to be surrounded by newness all the time. Sometimes I need to remind my brain as to where I am - "Hey, we're in Paris now."  Gazing out at the city of Paris from the Eiffel Tower was one of these moments for me. This is real. I'm actually here.

I must admit, that I find the Eiffel Tower a lot more romantic and lovely by night.  Last night, the clouds turned the most incredible shade of pink at sunset, and with rays of sun still peeking through them, the view of the tower with all this in the background was gorgeous.  And then the tower becomes illuminated, just like in the photos, and this too, is quite lovely.  By day, well, impressive, indeed, and, a bit funny looking...can I say things like that?  Last night, the Louvre was open until 10pm, with tickets substantially discounted if you arrived after 6pm. Wandering around the Louvre after dark on a Friday night was perfect, as tired as I was from all of my walking during the day. The Louvre is HUGE - over 35 000 exhibits - and its giantness was almost a relief. The fact that seeing everything is actually impossible means that there is no need to even try. I allowed myself to wander, relax, and be led to what I most wanted to see.  Of course, this involved a peek at the Mona Lisa, and the gallery's other groovy greats, such as the Venus de Milo, and huge murals by Rubens. I always wonder, when I look at paintings of fleshy, curvy, gorgeous women by folks such as Rubens, what the effect would be if girls in our society were shown these types of images of the female form from a young age, rather than the media ideals we are infiltrated with. Rubens' women are beautiful, and also real, forgiving. I may have already written this in an earlier blog entry, but it was impressed upon me again last night as I gazed upon this art.

Aside from the tourist traps, the images from yesterday that will stay with me are the fabulous accordion player busking to the tune of "Spanish Romance" through the metro cars, men selling tacky Eiffel Tower souvenirs (one tried the less-than-successful "you are sexy" sales tactic on me) running in all directions when police officers arrived on bicycles, practicing my French over breakfast with my quirky and vibrant artist roomate Hélèn, seeing church spires of sanctuaries yet to explore, eating farrrrr too much baguette, and gazing upon a beautiful sunset.

And yes, thinking lots about endings, new beginnings, continuings (my new word for the day), and striving for lots of the latter. Life invites us all in, to live fully, courageously, authentically, no matter our surroundings. I am inviting the spirit of this journey to remain present with me wherever life takes me next.

(which, in this moment, is off to see my favourite singing gargoyles)
xo