I’m safely back on US soil! After 8 days of mostly terrible food, I came home last night and ate the most American meal I could think of – pizza.
Anyway – Where were we when we last spoke?
Oh, right. Paris left me jaw-dropped.
Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco, but I left my jaw in Paris.
We saw the National Opera, which was a dream of mine ever since I knew what an opera house was. To see the set renderings, the costume designs (and in some cases costumes dating back to the 1930s), and the freaking gorgeous beyond-compare perfect auditorium and its famous ceiling brought a tear or two to my eye. My right eye. I can only cry from my right eye unless I’m sad. In which case I can only cry from my nose. #blessed
We saw the Louvre, which proved inspiring.
We saw Monet’s original Water Lilies, at Musee de l’Orangerie, which proved more inspiring.
We saw Musee D’Orsay, which proved even more inspiring.
I saw, alone, Dynamo, a temporary exhibition at La Grand Palais, which changed my life. Positively changed my life. The visuals of the exhibit, which was all about warping the senses, were so daring and well-thought-out.
I had a minor freakout at the top of Notre Dame because it was claustrophobic and nerve-wracking for some reason to be up there with all those strangers. I climbed alone, the family was tired.
Normandy was fine. The chateau we stayed at was literally Downton Abbey. I was hardcore waiting for Rob James-Collier to lurk around the corner. Instead, it was the lovely concierge who spoke such an interesting Anglicized French. I loved it.
While in Normandy, we went to Le Mont-St-Michel, which proved to be a stunning mirage a kilometer out on the water, or while we were there, a strange tidal plain. Incredible.
The war beaches were fine. The American and British cemeteries were very moving and I cried. But other than that, it was windy and cold and I wasn’t about that life.
But Paris, I can’t even. I loved everything about it. My parents and sisters have a lot of complaints, but besides the food, the city did no wrongs in my book.
I feel like I’m missing something.
I finished typing up the first draft of my play while there. I got a lot of reading done.
A lot of pictures too.
Oh. The Monet Garden and House were also lovely. In Giverny, halfway between Paris and the chateau.
This has been sort of a ramble because I have so many thoughts from the trip.
Measure in Love,