I met mom and dad in Paris with less than 12 hours between planes, and we managed to squeeze in breakfast at our favorite patisserie. What is nice about Paris is that things don’t tend to change quite as fast as in other places. In a city whose identity is its recognizability, where you walk… Continue reading patisserie
On my way to Congo, I had a lovely layover in Paris. Twenty-four hours is all I needed to reconnect to my old home, even though I was so exhausted and jet-lagged I could easily have slept most of that time.
I’ve lived in 6 cities long enough to know them like the back of my hand: Kinshasa (then Zaire), Brazzaville (Rep. of Congo), Newark (Delaware-USA), Haifa (Israel), Paris (France) and Pasadena (California-USA). Walking through Paris today was interesting because I instantly relived my time here in overheard bits of conversation, the whiiiiisssssshhhhhh of the departing… Continue reading I used to live here
You know you’re in Paris (and therefore no longer in Congo) when you get yelled at by cleaning ladies for asking why the only bathroom in the baggage claim area is closed. You know you’re in Paris when a screaming match ensues with a cab who refuses to take you because he thinks you chose… Continue reading screaming taxis
It’s interesting being back after the last few years I’ve had. The last time I was home was in 2005, four years ago, after I left Israel where I’d lived for two and a half years at the Baha’i World Center. I was on my way to Paris. I would be in Paris for a… Continue reading Familiar doesn’t make you belong
I broke down and bought a day pass for wifi. I couldn’t sleep anymore, I caught up on my sleep deprivation and have been wide awake for an hour. Landing in Paris last night was not something I was looking forward to. I had to get my luggage, get on the Air France Bus, get… Continue reading Paris at 5:49 AM
I‘ve been sitting here thinking about Paris. Flipping through the last month of my journal, trying to feel like I was there again. And feeling nothing. Do you know that sense of disconnect from memories? I have the hardest time recalling the past. So I read through the memories, walking across le pont des arts… Continue reading the blur, the present, the future.
Now that I’m interviewing for Disney I think it’s time I posted my favorite EVER story about my time in Paris. Which happened months ago. I should preface this by explaining that I used to have this horribly beaten up Discman that I hardly *ever* listened to, it didn’t close well, and had stickers all… Continue reading My what big ears you have
It’s interesting how stopping blogging leaves a big silence in your internet space, where it feels like nothing happens. That’s how I feel when I see blogs that haven’t been updated in over three, four, fifteen months… There is this zero-gravity image that comes to my mind, where the last post, which didn’t set out… Continue reading pockets of silence
I was walking around the Champs Elysees after running an important errand and suddenly decided to go and see “The Sheepman”, a 1958 George Marshall movie with Shirley MacLaine and Glenn Ross and Leslie Nielsen. One of the best comedy westerns of all time, with a great cast and a great script was the description… Continue reading un cafe parisien
We went to the world’s most famous air show and all-things aerial expo: le Salon du Bourget (there are practically no photos of human beings…i.e. us four that went, but there are some cool pictures of plane spare parts !!! as well as some I think, of the maiden flight of the Airbus A380, the… Continue reading my brother in Paris
Metro line 9 from Pont de Sevres, passing Ranelagh station at 11:25 PM. No one gets on or off at Ranelagh, it’s deserted, like a ghost western-town before a John Wayne shoot-out. It looks yellow under the lights, and as we start moving away, I notice a tall, old black man, sitting cross-legged on the… Continue reading dry shaving – state of grace
This is basically a little positive reflection on why I’m actually happy to be where I am (in the Paris area) even though it’s not a total success yet (i.e. still don’t have a job, still don’t feel settled, still don’t have much of a place to call my own). After T. was here, and… Continue reading biting off a piece of bread
So….after a day spent in museums and walking around the city, we went into Sephora, the huge makeup shop and I tried spray-on nylons,which right now, still seems like the dumbest idea in the world and prompts a few questions : -what is the difference between spray-on nylons and a spray-on tan? -who thought of… Continue reading spray-on nylons
One good thing about living in this area is that it seems to be an easy and willing destination for your close ones. Since being here, I’ve already had five visitors and am expecting three more in the next ten days…so I don’t really feel abandoned… Granted, they come for the sites and not necessarily… Continue reading Paris-dise
Coming back from a family reunion in Gap, in the Alps today, on the train…and the beauty of the landscape hits me, from either side of the train. I am making mental notes of dazzling places to return to, deserted, mountainous, shimmering. In between two snow-capped mountains, the sun shines, and valleys of green cascade… Continue reading the Alps
Do you ever feel like you want to break free from your life, your body, gravity? Break this shell, and just soar? That’s what ties me to writing in moments when I write what I feel, when it spills out of me to just express itself. It’s why art is so important, because it communicates,… Continue reading moments of beauty
You may know Montmartre from Amelie’s scenes, her creperie was a the foot of the Butte Montmartre (the hill) that overlooks Paris, from which you see that lovely panorama (the same you can see from “my” forest, but at a different angle, and…closer. It’s in the 18th “arrondissement”. Paris is a fantastic organisation of circular quarters,… Continue reading the steps of Montmartre
I live near Louis XIV’s childhood castle. He was born there, and it was the main royal castle in the Paris region until he came about, for obvious reasons…he built the other ones. It’s a pretty lovely city, really. Small cobblestone streets, dozens of fancy cafés, bars, restaurants, shops with overpriced, exquisite hand-crafted items. The castle… Continue reading the castle park.
I bury my head deep inside my leftist newspaper, “Libéraction” or “Libé” for short, or inside my balanced, or rather center-right “Le Monde”, or my extremist denunciating, conspiracy-filled satirical newspaper, the one that tells me what “people” try to hide, and that goes by a name I particularly favor, “The Chained Duck.” I read my papers, fingers steadily… Continue reading the sexy midnight bus
The Three-Legged Duck 