Paris

I wonder as I wander …

Perhaps the simple words written a few days ago about London, perhaps that analogy can and could apply to most any place in the world. Certainly, it might not be a particular city that is “hell on earth.” If we are not feeling well, if we’re not well-balanced or even, simply said, if we are feeling downright rotten, then life anywhere might surely be hell.

Yes, it is true, that I don’t have a very positive opinion of Paris. Sure, it can be a beautiful city, even a positive city… Paris in the Spring Time and all that. But I truly believe that Paris is a very negative and pessimistic city — Paris and the Parisians.

What’s bugging me now, is le retour au village des Impressionistes. I guess some paintings au bord de Seine will never be lucid. How can they be, if the artist has absolutely no idea what he’s painting.

Sitting on the train to Paris now: stressed — deep down — at the thought of many things. The French — striking again. Apprehension about even being in the village. Unsure, if I even want to have a look around les rives. Hoping to see Crevette — coucou minou !

It is not often that I write this straight-forward, open and unadulterated. Anxious to see what these words and thoughts mean after the fact or in a different context and time.