suck my blood
“Paris is like a vampire,” he says, leaning towards me and yelling over the music.
He’s been living here for years now, and although he wants to leave, he says he can’t. Because this city, it sinks it’s teeth into you. You can hate your day-to-day life in Paris, but it will find a way to grab you when you’re not looking.
It will be cloudy and miserable for days, and then suddenly the sun will break through the clouds, light up an old church, and you know, you just know, that this is one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
And so I live for the moments. I follow Hemingway’s footsteps and hop from one café to the next, meet up with friends, drink too much, and let the city take me where it will.
Some days I wear my Parisian frown quite well, and my heart is so heavy that I have to sit down, but it never lasts forever.
This weekend was live music in a smoky bar, lunch at les philosophes, blues music on the Seine, Hemingway on the metro, Indian food in a small alley way, wine, Russian caviar, bookstores, homemade dinner, one-on-one conversation and my feet skipping their way all around the city.
I live for the faces here too. The faces of those I know and of those I don’t know. For the woman dressed all in orange, seated across from me on the metro. For my favorite Blues singer on the bridge, wearing his fedora and sunglasses. For the old women with serious faces, and the young men with mischief in their eyes.
There are days when all I want to do is to go home, but quite frankly, I've been bitten. When I leave, I better leave running, because this vampire has a taste for me, and it will be hard to get away.
He’s been living here for years now, and although he wants to leave, he says he can’t. Because this city, it sinks it’s teeth into you. You can hate your day-to-day life in Paris, but it will find a way to grab you when you’re not looking.
It will be cloudy and miserable for days, and then suddenly the sun will break through the clouds, light up an old church, and you know, you just know, that this is one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
And so I live for the moments. I follow Hemingway’s footsteps and hop from one café to the next, meet up with friends, drink too much, and let the city take me where it will.
Some days I wear my Parisian frown quite well, and my heart is so heavy that I have to sit down, but it never lasts forever.
This weekend was live music in a smoky bar, lunch at les philosophes, blues music on the Seine, Hemingway on the metro, Indian food in a small alley way, wine, Russian caviar, bookstores, homemade dinner, one-on-one conversation and my feet skipping their way all around the city.
I live for the faces here too. The faces of those I know and of those I don’t know. For the woman dressed all in orange, seated across from me on the metro. For my favorite Blues singer on the bridge, wearing his fedora and sunglasses. For the old women with serious faces, and the young men with mischief in their eyes.
There are days when all I want to do is to go home, but quite frankly, I've been bitten. When I leave, I better leave running, because this vampire has a taste for me, and it will be hard to get away.
posted by Gillian Young at 5:00 AM
9 Comments:
Gill, once again, awesome pictures. I especially like the fuzzy man in front of the antique shop one. 'The world in motion' vs. 'The world that was'. ;)
It is true that cities with history, and its people, sink their teeth into your flesh and don't let go. I'm happy to be able to spend two months in such a European city again (Zurich). It'll be a nice change from college-town Chapel Hill.
PS. Why is it that you only have cute friends? ;)
I suppose that cities like Paris are best lived in by the young and without the intention of staying too long.
I know New York is that way. I lived in Manhattan for a year and loved every minute of it. I went there filled with uncertainty, but the city was so alive it soon forces you out of your shell to live in the moment, for both the good and bad things.
But somehow it's a frenetic pace that's hard to keep up with year after year.
Thanks for the wonderful tour in words and pictures.
I've been in Paris almost 10 years now. This post rings true. My day to day life is a hassle with commutes etc, but when the sun filters through the trees, I'm all 'hop' and filled with admiration for the city I live in.
I really like the blues man on the bridge as well!
Of course it does Schuey, this is why everything has such a powerful effect on me right now. It's when you're about to lose something that you truly appreciate it.
And even though it's my choice to go, it will be hard to leave, because I'm finally found my pace in this strange city.
I've been bitten too.
Just stumbled onto your blog via La Coquette. Will be back!
I've always thought that a woman has a Lust of Her Life and Love of Her Life. Usually it's not the same guy (or gal), or for that matter, city. Paris is the Lust of My Life. Elusive, mysterious, ethereal and sexy beyond belief. I will always crave Paris.
New York is the Love of My Life. Loyal, trustworthy, safe, but with just enough edge to keep me hooked. I think Paris will be the Lust of Your Life. Where will your Love be? Hmm... I'll stay tuned to see the outcome.
Where ever you are when you most become yourself, will always be part of you. It's OK, as they say, to leave a part of your heart behind, but bring the fine/refined self with you and keep it always.
Enticed by the Apple> Maybe Toronto will be the love of my life. But there are still many cities I'm ready to give my heart to, and I want to give them all a chance before I decide.
Kate> If Hemingway is right I'm packin this whole feast with me, and taking what I can from it.
Everyone else> Thanks for all the comments, you guys are all on this trip with me.
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