Day 13 was nothing worth posting about but day 14 has been W[A]NDERful. I had a day off and wandered Paris. It’s as good as you can imagine.
Wandering lead me to familiar places and to find some new discoveries. The great thing about this city is you can head towards the Seine and you’ll always manage to find your bearings again.
Beautiful things I did today:
– spent time with myself
– loved the city I call home
– shopped for the first time! got myself a fanny pack (90s 4ever) and a pair of striped trousers, both for very great prices considering we’re in Paris – the store was amazing (Citadium)
– pretended I was rich as I strolled down Saint Honore
– went to ‘Les Musees De La Ville De Paris’ and saw beautiful artwork; I have a new favourite artist along with Klimt, Dali, and Monet – Pissaro. My God.
– had a late lunch in St. Germain and thought about Hemingway
– thought about life
– gave thanks to the universe
– got lost in Paris and smiled at not having a care in the world
Why do we delegitimize the life of artists who are not immediately successful with their craft? Why do we call them, “aspiring” artists? Why do we do this when we are a species that relies so heavily on looking to others for entertainment, inspiration, and clarification of our purpose?
So many painters we have in galleries today once faced the same ridicule and lack of recognition, but now we have endless copies of all their work, mass produced and featured in monthly calendars.
Artists (and purveyors of specific goods, as well), create out of a necessity because their soul contains an abundance of energy that needs to be expended in a way that feels like their life has purpose, that there is meaning in this human existence and it comes through seeing it with the eyes of a creative. But their work often gives meaning to others, is often the driving force that gives them an individual sense of purpose and a push to live their passions and follow their dreams. So not only do creatives create to bring solace to their spirit but they create (with intent or otherwise) products that give purpose to the lives of others.
What, then, in all the world, is more amazing than an artist? To live a life driven by your passion but also inspire others? This is so unintentionally selfless. This is a life lived with the fuel of love and compassion!
Living in a city that is literally life-giving for artists, where reasons to breathe and secrets to discover hide around each corner, has given me a sense of purpose as a creator that I’ve never felt before. It buries itself deep in my soul and I am now on an endless mission to find how to best let this saturate every aspect of my life, every pore of my body, every cell in my bloodstream, and, in turn, give sustenance to those who choose to drink up my journey.
I know that the universe will eventually reveal to me in the most simplistic way how to follow this and subsequentially live in abundance. So for now, I just wait, with the patience this city has constantly given me lessons in…
In other news, I’ve been invited to wine tomorrow night with the girl living in the apartment next door, and the story is a girl-power one, but I’ll save that for another day. A future book, perhaps.
Also, there is no part of inner-city Paris I detest more than being close to the Eiffel Tower. The scam artists, the ignorant tourists (I say ignornat because so many, in that particular location, stand in the middle where people are walking for photographs, sign the petitions of scammers, buy from illegal sellers at exuberant prices, and are completely unaware of safety), the crowdedness of it… it’s awful. It’s the least beautiful part of Paris.