#im like an evil fly that keeps buzzing around simon over these two

[basketobread]

(haima belongs to @percexe !!!)

drew these a few nights ago i like them a normal amount 👍

[bites-kms]

La Joie de Vivre: Paris 32mm

Just came from Le Caveau de la Huchette - yes, the jazz club from La-La-Land. I didn’t know this, until I was at the door. I was just looking for a fun place to have a drink or two on a Thursday night and what a joy I found. I literally found the joy of life, or the Parisian way - la joie de vivre.

These people, they were so immerse into the beat, it was très magnifique. Specially there was this one women, with style and grace, short hair, long earrings, long skirt -long according to her age but edgy enough let her wave and move around-, without a bra, laughing and shaking her arms towards the back while killing the dance floor at the beat and rhythm of bebop with his partner, a black man with a white haired afro, with the same big smile and crazy moves as her. It was amazing. I only felt tele transported like this before and it was at Nicky’s, the best Speakeasy bar in Buenos Aires. But this was the real deal: I am in Paris, living the late roaring 20s, in between wars after the American soldiers fought in Paris, in a lost cave right next Ile de cité, few blocks away from Notre Dame. 

photocredits: Black Label Media  Although I must confess I was expecting to meet my Ryan Gosling - and yes, I did remember our dance mov(i)es - I met Mr. PH, or Pierre-Henri, the lovely Swedish/French, who lived in Utah from Uppsala. It’s amazing to be able to connect with all these people through music, regardless of age and origin, and this was even more special due to my Swedish experience. We danced and laughed a lot. I proudly made a fool of myself and decided I’m gonna learn this dance once Im back in NYC. Then I met Maurice, a younger, intriguing French guy with whom we danced more upbeat my-hips-dont-lie songs. That was some intense moves going on there! I had such a wonderful time I couldn’t wait to come home to write about it, I hope to make justice to the amazing experience I just had. Walking down the Seine, as Owen Willson in Midnight in Paris, I came back home - to this evil, evil Airbnb, not without stoping by the Louvre and enjoying all its secrets, changing my movie switch to the Da Vinci Code.

It’s still mesmerizes me how much these narratives shape our collective perspectives on the world. I was thinking about this exact same issue while walking down my office’s street the other day, back in NY, and saw a couple of police patrols going around like crazy, with a black SUV that looked as if it was from the FBI and a small but intense manifestation. I was surprised on how quiet the protesters were after the police cars passed by and didn’t make much sense to me. That was when I finally realized I was living this meta-reality and was tricked by my very own mind: this was all a set up for Gotham and I thought it was the real deal. I couldn’t stop laughing and my mind exploded for a couple of very long minutes trying to understand and process all these realities happening at the same time in my head!  So yes, this is my tribute to them, to the movies, to those little pieces of realities that we share in 32 mm (or blue ray, but that way is not that picturesque any more) And it feels weird that I start this tribute in Paris and not in New York, but I guess the NYC experience still feels a little bit surreal to me. At least here I know I’m not staying for good, I’m just here for 10 days, so I guess that makes me way more objective, an eager observer and an obsessed analytic of every minute.

I deserved some celebration after the success on the US embassy, so I decided to start with the simplest thing: let’s go for dinner! I went for my poulette avec pomme de terre but since it only came with fries, I switched it for the plat du soir and felt a little bit of the Jack Nicholson’s magic on Something Gotta Give at the Grand Colbert restaurant.  

I ended up in the most surreal circumstances on a Friday’s night. Lost, during a thin-rainy eve in Paris, searching for hidden wifi hotspots in order to reach my destination: a typical French bistro by Le Marais. What I didnt realized, was that I was gonna run into this typical French guy called William. William, is actually a PHD professor and researcher from Atlanta- although he has been living in France since forever, and as per a Woody Allen movie, he was wearing a brown suit jacket which was double his proper size. He was also wearing bigger trousers -not pants- and we debated about morality, existence and transcendence of matter and language over the Frankfurt School, Marcuse, Horkheimer, Adorno for more than 4 hours, having wine, charcuterie and terrine. It was a very nice movie cliche to experience without even planning it!

Who knew Paris was so famous in movies? I mean, of course in the collective imagery it is, but I didn’t actually realize the size nor the amount of “featured time” Paris have in this movie so called life. After my wonderful La-La-Land experience, my expectations were high and difficult to match, but oh you, dear Amélie, that was a hell of a Saturday we shared together! 

I went to Montmartre and started my film on the Abesees station, right next to the carrousel, close to her apartment. After a beautiful morning stroll with the sun on my face and the joy on each and every single pore of my being, I found the Cafe des 2 Moulins, where she enjoys the small but amazing things of life. Little did I know that not only the creme brûlée was gonna be amazing, but the atmosphere and the memories would be as such! The waiter became my fan: he noticed I was writing in my journal and started hitting on me with the sweetest and cheesiest lines ever, talking about the movie, practicing and mixing English and French, gifting me a pain au chocolat, drawing a heart gesture on the air before giving it to me. He even dared to asked for my number in the most courageous yet sweet way imaginable! It really made my day. Thanks Jullien, that was fun! Of course I also checked out the Studio 28 Cinema, where Amelie enjoys her movies. BITES & KMS SAYS: That’s a meta-hyper reality indeed: Amelie, a fictional character which I watch, goes and watches movies to the cinema in a narrative fiction, located on the same place I am standing right now in real life, thinking and wondering about what that character would be feeling at that moment, with the difference that I am feeling it right now. Wow #mindblown

Of course, I couldn’t stop singing My Song, performed by Christian (Ewan McGregor), feeling a little bit like Satine from Moulin Rouge, while going up and down hills. I hate Boulevard de Clichy, I absolutely hate it: it’s dirty, touristy, with no style nor personality, full of weird people in the bad sense weird can be understood. But well, even though the Bal du Moulin Rouge is located there, this is not whatsoever the best part of the Quarter. So, I kept my musical dream alive and went around the other small and hidden streets. I actually found a spot, which was absolutely perfect. I needed to stop and write about it. My piece of paper said something like this: “Little pieces of Paris, small and unique as the cobblestones of their streets, where only the little birds sing and the sun warms the soul, in between the distant buzz and talks from the tourists.” I imagine a little chambre on one of those top balconies, with lovers singing to each other, having sex and drinking wine in bed at 11 am on a Sunday, waiting to be drunk again to keep sleeping. I stopped by this wonderful Bistro called Le Sancerre. I had my first glass of champagne and had a delicious lunch, falling in love with all these movies, one scene at a time.

The following day I had a very specific location in mind: the Coulee Verte Rene Dumont: secret lover gardens. Only true Parisians go there and take their dates in hopes of some French kiss action. It is quite far off the tourist circuit, and that made me realized how the US is a rough copy of the best of France, with a very local spin. The Highline, that architecture phenomenon everyone is proud of, already existed here in Paris more than a century ago, and still lingers today. So, sorry Paula Scher, there’s nothing new under the sun. And talking about the sun, this was the setting for Before Sunset. I went there to seek inspiration and to reflect upon that proper dialogue that happens in the movie. Was sex with Ethan Hawke that forgettable or was it actually remarkable? Was he really happy with his wife? Why aren’t they together? Are they meant to be? 

I guess there is just time to listen to some Nina Simone - which, for the time being, we can switch for French Edit Piaf or Italian Mina- and to whomever is asking when I’m flying back, I’m just gonna do as Ethan Hawke: 

Celine- Hey Babe, you’re gonna miss that plane. Jesse- I know.