11 June 2013

paris


in paris, my hair was wavier.

mysteriously fantastically wavier. and the strawberries smelled like candy and the metro seats were different colors, different shapes. at every stop, every single stop. and the cobblestones felt good and warm beneath my feet, the alleyways were deep and narrow (just as I imagined they might be) and begged to be wandered. and every so often, there were accordion players (which meant there was the sound of accordion music) and there was also something called an almond croissant which I think maybe changed my life.

perhaps most importantly, ava was there. ava was there with me in paris, and I have so many of you to thank for that. surely we will do nothing but talk about it for the rest of our days. we will talk about the first croques-monsieur we ate, about how we could see the eiffel tower from our apartment window. just barely, but we could see it. and we will certainly talk about the way it sparkled at night. we'll talk about irene and how much we adore her (actually, we will probably fight over who likes her more) and we'll talk about the time I tried to buy apricots (in french) at the little neighborhood farmers market and failed miserably. we'll talk about the sweet boulangerie on the corner where we picked up warm baguettes, about the most beautiful pink cloud of cotton candy on a stick, maybe ever, about pretty french macaroons and crepes that oozed nutella. in the same breath, we will talk about the sweet crepe maker who insisted we sit and enjoy. we'll talk about the ominous organ music that flooded notre dame as we made our way through and then how we wandered the latin quarter afterwards with lovely xanthe and discovered tiny music boxes and enormous meringues (which we ate on the metro on the way home). inevitably, we will talk about ava in the audience at tedx and how she got me through, about the crazy mob scene at the polaroid workshop table afterwards, about the magic that irene made.

we will talk about about how we climbed up onto the roof through the apartment ceiling's skylight at magic hour, how the light fell like honey on the buildings and the rooftops all around us. we'll talk about the afternoon we spent following dusty fleamarket corridors this way and that, sifting through lovely junky jumbles along the way, about the little vintage keychains that seemed to be everywhere and the pink paper parasol I fell in love with (and then promptly lost on the metro on the way home). we'll talk about the teeny tiny pink forks they gave us to eat our french fries with, about too many bottles of orangina and cheese that seemed to melt in our mouths. we'll talk about the french junk food we bought at the supermarket (for science), about the time we squeezed into the photobooth with irene,  about how I chased after two accordion players with my polaroid SX-70 like a crazy woman. we'll talk about the time we saw the mona lisa through a sea of iphones and ipads and digital cameras, about the day it rained and rained, til we were soaked through but we stopped and left our tiny red locks on the pont des arts anyway.

we will talk about digging through bargain bins deep with clothing at sympa, how we got lost at least a hundred times on the extraordinary streets of montmartre, looking for the house of van gogh or toulouse lautrec or picasso's studio. how we ended up at the cafe where amelie worked, ordered the creme brulee then fought over who got to break the surface first (ava, natch). we'll talk about that night we spread gobs of nutella on toasted crustless white bread from the supermarket, turned out all the lights in the apartment, climbed up into the loft and watched amelie on my computer. like dorks. we'll talk about how we longed to lay on the forbidden green grasses of every park, how the language seemed to flow around us like liquid, like so much liquid. we'll talk about the time that lady got on the metro with her sad eyes and her sad microphone to sing sad songs and no one seemed to see her, no one seemed to hear. then we will talk about how we wanted to cry when she gently pushed her way off at the next stop. we will talk about the dreamy toy boats at luxembourg gardens and the little vintage shop with all the striped shirts and the old art nouveau metro signs and I am sure we will talk about my incessant need to repeat each metro stop after it was announced. barbes rochechouart. barbes rochechouart.  how I insisted the announcements were like mini language lessons and who were we to refuse? surely we will talk about pretty doorways with scrolling black ironwork and pretty bicycles with honey-colored baskets. and cheap kitschy souvenirs and cute french boys. and we will most certainly talk about how I could not, would not shut up about my newly wavy hair.

and then, when we are done talking about all the things, all the lovely paris things, we will talk about how we are already plotting our return.

29 comments:

  1. absolutely in love with every.single.thing about this post. what a dream!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Of course you are plotting your return! Cannot wait to hear more. You and your way with words. (and pictures, of course)

    ReplyDelete
  3. So special. I took a trip to England (and a day in France) with my mom in March, and we share many similar memories. Love this post!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Sarah and I sat on the couch to read this together...Amelie! Hope to see you soon!

    ReplyDelete
  5. this made me cry. good, happy tears. what a beautiful little anthology.

    ReplyDelete
  6. My heart feels so full for the two of you. What magical moments you got to share together. My mother has always been afraid of travel so I can only dream of sharing such an experience with my own daughter someday.

    I can't wait to see more of your polaroids: they look divine...

    ReplyDelete
  7. Beautiful! Hope to take adventures like this with my kiddos one day!
    Laura @ luckypennylove.com

    ReplyDelete
  8. I love you guys. So very honoured to have a been a teeny tiny part of this magic. xxx

    ReplyDelete
  9. So beautiful. Your writing is a gift and Ava will treasure this.

    ReplyDelete
  10. this is amazing & magical.

    love me (j'aime) some (des) croques-monsieur!!

    ReplyDelete
  11. you are such a cool person, i hope you know that.
    i love reading your stories, and i always, without realizing it, find myself lost in your world.
    thank you. :)
    and now i want to visit paris.
    -Tina

    p.s. i'd be talking about my hair non stop if it all of a sudden became wavy too.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Really wonderful to read this friend! I'm so glad you two had such an amazing time and I can't wait to hear more stories in person over much needed pedicures! :)

    ReplyDelete
  13. in a word...dreamy!
    glad you are home safe!
    xO

    ReplyDelete
  14. Wow, thank you for taking me with you! This post is pure magic. M-a-g-i-c!

    ReplyDelete
  15. Love, love, love, love, love. I can't get enough of your Instagram feed these days, and this post? Is perfection. What an incredible treasure chest of memories for the two of you...

    ReplyDelete
  16. lovely :)
    makes me want to go back right now.

    ReplyDelete
  17. I was there the week before you, perhaps a little overlapping, and this post sums up so much of MY adventure as well. You captured the feeling of Paris so well. The sad karaoke lady on the train.... walking around Montmartre looking for artists' locations, etc... and your instagram photos are amazing! Thank you for sharing!

    ReplyDelete
  18. wow, I cannot imagine how special this trip was for your daughter at her age. May those memories be treasured forever! I was just in Paris last month... it's magical!
    danielle
    ravennagirls.com

    ReplyDelete
  19. You make Paris sound even more beautiful than I'd previous imagined. How lovely to have gone with your daughter!

    ReplyDelete
  20. You capture the FEELING so perfectly. I love this. Love love love. I visited Paris at the tail end of studying abroad in Spain in college, and Paris captured my heart. ps, there is an authentic french bakery near me, in the Atlanta burbs, and their almond croissants are so unbelievably good!

    ReplyDelete
  21. Lovely in every way - smell sight sound touch emotion.

    ReplyDelete
  22. this was perfect. so so very perfect, xoxox

    ReplyDelete
  23. oh someday, someday, paris again, with alexander, with aliza...

    today i showed aliza your talk, and then i reached over, to the right of the computer monitor, to the magnetic board reserved for 'aliza things,' and i moved aside a drawing of a robot and a business card for a knitting shop that offers classes for nimble-fingered nine year-olds, and i handed her the last Polaroid I took, of her, in Indian-insprired face-paint, on the sidewalk in front of the school International Fair, when her brother was a kindergartner, and she was two. she cradled the Polaroid in her hands, so gently, and asked -- as if she had discovered I could secretly fly or that I had a magic lamp stuffed in the back of the coat closet -- "Do you have one???"

    ReplyDelete
  24. oh oh i want this with my girl. i so do! you melt me.
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete