~aventures du louchette flâneurse: 12ème~

November 27th, 2009

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We expect possibly ten days of rain upcoming, so I took the afternoon to wander Montmartre, in the area that was our stomping ground on the last trip here. It is such a fine nook, a little village.

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Found the shop with the incredible Moroccan mint tea that I used so sparingly back in NYC until it just evaporated, and the heavenly pastry shop mentioned yesterday, Le Petit Mitron, home of insanely good Tarte aux Mirabelles, on my old main shopping drag, Rue Lepic.

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I walked Rue Abbesses as well, and up to Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. Tant pis you can’t hear the Italian busker chewing his way through the entire “everything’s gonna be alright all you need is love we are the world” songbook. Clap your hands! Sing Along! Lowest Common Denominator!

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I guess it means I’m feeling a little less fragile if I can find some of my treasured bitterness again. Yes, okay, only kidding. It remains wonderful to be around people, even people with amplifiers and those who encourage them. It is just like MacDowell Colony for me here, solo, there gets to be a point in the day that I think “Go and see some people, go and see some people.” and then I put it all down and that’s what I do. I’m talking to myself (in public) an enormous amount as it is.

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I didn’t know until recently that there are vineyards in Montmartre. The man below, center (who I think of as John, in a moderne John and Yoko homage) produced such a theatrical lump of sputum and then looked at me as if to say, So what, touriste? Le Prince Charmant!

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Legendary Au Lapin Agile cabaret purportedly got it’s second name (a step up from Cabaret des Assassins) from an image still on the facade, of a rabbit jumping out of a saucepan. Painted by André Gill, “Le Lapin à Gill”, meaning “Gill’s rabbit”, became the Agile Bunny.

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Tonight: editing until eyes cross! I miss my honey, but I have found my footing again. Last night at Thanksgiving dinner I met an expat NY filmmaker who when asked if he liked Paris said “No.” He qualified that with a smile and that (Champagne-fueled) honesty you sometimes find when you are fairly certain never to see the person you are speaking with again, “I think I’m just not a happy person.”  We agreed that Paris is an excellent backdrop to misery.

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I am not of the Misery Club myself, but I am notably more filter-less than many I know. It’s a funny thing when you travel a fair amount, you can find yourself in the City of Light yet in a funk. You wouldn’t take a vacation while someone you love is dying, kicking up ghosts and sorrow, but you might be required to utilize the amazing gift of a research grant while that very thing is happening. Thus, sometimes a funk simply arrives, and doesn’t care how precious your time or situation may be. I am glad to say, however, things are feeling solid. Bon Jour.

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