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More Noticing

Here in Edinburgh the colors from the sky feel more present. They enter into our daily walks without asking for permission, just by being there. Robyn, with her artist's perspective, has made me much more aware of the different shades of light and how they hit the landscape and create shapes and images that are constantly flowing into new imaginings.

I am in a cafe just a block from our new flat in the city. I look up from my keyboard and see a Scottish cab drive by. The shape is so distinct, it reminds as I leave my words where I am and how happy I am.

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Paris Vs. Edinburgh

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Eating Shit Sandwiches

Robyn lent me a book called Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, by Elizabeth Gilbert. Gilbert did a wonderful job of using anecdotes to motivate her readers to let go of the fear that keeps so many of us from freely exploring our creative sides. 

One section (and there were many) that really struck a chord for me was when she talked about the sacrifice that each one of us has to take no matter what we do. She stole this idea from the writer Mark Manson who wrote, “Every single pursuit…comes with its own brand of shit sandwich, its own lousy side effects. Everything sucks, some of the time.”  You just have to decide what sort of suckage you’re willing to deal with.  So the question is not so much ‘What are you passionate about?’  The question is ‘What are you passionate enough about that you can endure the most disagreeable aspects of the work?'”

Sitting in a cafe Thursday morning in Paris, the temperature once again hovering around 72, beautiful people walking by every time I look up, the blended smell of coffee and croissants wafts across the layers of my senses and I think to myself, “This is the second time in my life when I don’t have to eat a shit sandwich.” 

That idea is crazy. As I look back on my 58 years here on this earth I can only think of one other time when I was shit sandwich free- those first few years of my life. Then middle school arrives and the idea of homework, peer pressure, and what it means to become an adult begins to take shape and I start nibbling at that nasty sandwich for the first time. Before that, I was just a little kid-free to see the world, experience and appreciate it in ways that shit sandwich eatin’ folks just can’t. I mean how could we? 

So, here I am, “Retiring to Curiosity” in this blog and no clue where my adventures and meandering thoughts will go but I feel very excited about the promise of the road ahead. I am a kid again, but with more self-awareness. How will that self awareness change my ability to enter into what I am curious about? Not sure- but as I write this I hear the voice of Taj Mahal from his song Take a Giant Step Outside Your Mind, “Do you remember the feeling as a child when you woke up and morning smiled? It’s time you felt that way again.” Here we go Taj, let’s take that giant step.

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Missing that certain...mmmphhh?

Two recent cultural excursions did not live up to expectations. One was to visit St. Chapelle which is one of, if not my favorite church in all of the world (and I have been to a lot of churches!) It is an unassuming church that sits just 2 blocks from Notre Dame and is not well known with the tourist crew. The stained glass windows are absolutely phenomenal when you go upstairs to where only the Kings and their families went to pray. But this time around perhaps due to construction around the church, perhaps due to the overflow of tourists (shut out of Notre Dame as reconstruction is still underway) or perhaps because on the first floor of the church they set up stands to sell merchandise (ugh...Jesus would not approve) the experience was flat.

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Banana Boy

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       Camille Claudot: The Age of Maturity

When I came across this sculpture at Musee Rodin I was captivated by the story. Kneeling at one end of the sculpture is a young woman who is reaching out or perhaps having just let go of a man who is being coaxed by a much older woman to follow her and move away from the pleading girl. The sculpture titled, “The Age of Mortality” drew me in more than any other sculpture in the museum in part because of the strong lines or movement angling up from the foot of the young girl all the way up to what I saw (perhaps mistakenly so) as some sort of wing from the woman pulling the protagonist away from his daughter, lover, who?? 

When I read the explanation card next to the sculpture I learned more. In fact, the story “presents us with three naked figures, a young woman on her knees whose outstretched hands appear to have just released from their grip the hand of an older man, who is held in the arms of another, older woman, who appears to be compelling the man forward and away from the young woman. The title points to an allegory of aging, in which the man, the protagonist of the piece, is leaving his youth and moving towards old age and death.” 

And there it is once again: this theme of impending death is one that seems to creep into my daily consciousness. Not so unexpected given my dad passing away, my retirement and well, struggling more and more with basic physical actions like knee pain when I walk down stairs. Ironically, the last time I was at Musee Rodin I was captivated by a different sculpture: “The Kiss”

There I was a 20 year old college student on his semester abroad walking through the museum for the first time and just being blown away by the passion of this embrace. The way in which the woman curled her arm around her lover’s neck, pulling him in and he, relaxed in his devotion toward the moment, his hand gently resting on her hip, his absolute commitment to the moment and all the love and promise that it revealed. All of this tenderness, all of this sensuality captured by Rodin in marble. 

So now, 33 years later, it is what I see and what I am moved by that reveals just where I am in my life and what I am thinking about. It’s natural and nothing to be ashamed of or to walk away from or deny. After all, now I am 58 years old and at a transitional moment in my life. The facts of this transition seep into how I see and appreciate the world around me from small actions like bending down to tie my shoes to walking through a museum and being moved by different works of art. 

There is a second part of the story behind “The Age of Mortality” that does reveal much about Rodin and his approach to his own mortality. When he saw the first version of Claudot’s sculpture, in a fit of rage he destroyed it. Why exactly he did this is unknown, but given Rodin’s ego and my own reflections about mortality these days I will suggest my own narrative on why he did such a violent act of destruction on his lover’s sculpture. Unfortunately, Rodin could not cope or even face his own mortality. 

Right…not too complicated of an explanation. However, this is where I feel my own journey and mindset takes a path or a turn away from our renown artist. I am living right now a life in Paris that feels like a gift. Check that, it does not feel like a gift, it is a gift. Each day provides new adventures, new places to see or old haunches like this cafe where I sit writing, really, whatever I want to write about. So many people, especially old men like Rodin, grow gruff and bitter as they age. Women are much more graceful at aging. Their ego is checked and their lives blossom. At least it seems that way to me as I know far more grumpy old men than women. But not me, no, Rodin, I will not turn toward anger as these last 20-30 years unfold. Instead, I will cherish the life in front of me as a new adventure to appreciate and embrace. Onward! 

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The Energy in the Stadium was Powerful!

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PSG vs. Monaco Match de Foot

What a Vibe!

Last night we went to Parc des Princes to watch one of the best teams in the world play and also watch Lionel Messi, the greatest soccer player ever. Luckily, before the game he heard that we were coming so we had a photo taken together:

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Patience? Not me!

Yesterday I walked to our neighborhood Boucherie to pick up some meat for dinner. There were about 4 people in line in front of me but after waiting 5 minutes I could tell that this would be a long wait since Le Boucher was still trimming the meat for the woman he was attending to. So, as two young gentleman arrived behind to wait I decided I would go pick up my fruit and vegetables for dinner since that was just across the street. After picking all of that up I went back to the Boucherie but the line had not moved! So, I went across the street to the Boulangerie to pick up my baguette for dinner and that was a quick trip so not surprised to look to see the line had not moved. So, I went to the patisserie to pick up my sweets. Took a peak and the line had moved but only by one person. Went to the fromagerie to buy cheese which was as you can guess, just around the corner. Picked up our cheese, checked the line and those two young gentleman who were behind me still had 3 people in front of them...15-20 minutes AFTER I had left. So, I went home and we had a vegetarian meal.

Was the meat worth the wait or am I just an impatient American?

But what I did love was the experience of going into each shop and picking up the specialty served up there. Each place had its feel, smell and style. Each place within paces of the other, just like every neighborhood in Paris, this is where people come to celebrate the unique tastes and flavors that make the process of shopping a joy.

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Shirley Jaffe and Tears

Exhibit at Museum of Modern Art Georges Pompido

Robyn and I went to the Shirley Jaffe show and I experienced art through Robyn in a powerful way. She came out of one of her more expressionistic rooms in tears. I asked her if she was ok and she just said the works in that room moved her to tears.

I had to of course go into that room and take it in and I could feel just what Robyn felt. Perhaps not to the degree of emotion where Robyn was but definitely when contrasted to her more geometrical paintings that happened later- the ones group in this room were exceptional in their ability to mix colors, shapes and feelings together.

https://www.mutualart.com/Artwork/The-Criss-Cross/CA1709BB261D324F

This one called The Criss-Cross was an homage to Thelonius Monk which is pretty funny since the night before we went to hear a jazz show that was all an homage to Monk. She paints with conviction and I love the fact that Robyn was so open to being so moved it moved her to tears. That is what art can do, especially to one whose nature is open enough to allow it to happen.

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Enjoying the good vibes and a Chevre Salad

After a walk through St. Germain Des Pres we went to my favorite cafe in Paris. It is here in La Palette that I joked around with the waiter for two years. He was a burly and gruff man who took no shit but had a great sense of humor and every once in awhile would bring me a second cafe on the house because he saw me writing so much and figured I either needed more energy or would somehow find a way to put him into one of my novels.

Well, there is a new painting inside the cafe (usually we sit outside but there were no seats so we were moved inside) and here it is:

You see the guy on the far left? That's him! So with a bit of fear in my voice I asked another waiter if Gerard was still working there and he said no, he retired a few years ago. AHA- my friend and I share something else in common. I may never write that novel but Gerard will always have a warm place in my heart.

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Biking Around Paris

One huge change in Paris (and I guess in most cities) is the amount of bikes and scooters dominating the city.

After a few days of relying on the metro, we decided to take the plunge and begin grabbing bikes to get around. The first few days were kind of stressful. Not so much because of the actual riding around the city (true, that is a bit confusing due to the messed up street signs and routes for bike lanes) but mostly because we have been struggling with how to work the APP to unleash the bikes.

Inevitably, we get one off of its host stand, but then can't get the second. Ugh...here is a photo of Robyn working her phone magic to unleash bike number two. As she navigates the confusing technology I move slowly farther away to avoid her frustration, but here I snapped a photo. Check out that look of determination on her face!

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