It is always like this: I catch a noon flight out of Warsaw, spend the night in Paris, and catch the 1 pm next day to Chicago. I need the gradual transition that will allow me to reenter my life across the ocean.
Of course, this time Paris isn’t fresh for me. I had just been here, I had walked on rainy sidewalks with a broken umbrella or sometimes no umbrella at all. I had eaten crepes with melted cheeses and I had argued about who first discovered the blue and yellow Matisse painting at the Luxembourg Palace gallery.
Still, Paris always manages to rub its suave and sensual fingers along your spine and kick you into a wonderful state of awakedness. I had been speaking with a couple from the States on a train in Poland. They had moved to Europe (Switzerland at this point) in search of a balanced life and they love what they have created for themselves here. And they said – when we need to believe again in what we did, when we need to find excitement in our directions, we go for a few days to Paris.
Me too. And so I am here.
Can you tell? Even without a single tell-tale sight or street sign, this photo is a dead giveaway of where I am.