Oh how I’ve missed your words! Reading you is a bit like doing a scavenger hunt…if I’m not fully paying attention I miss clues early on that inevitably enlighten clues forthcoming. Everything builds on everything that came before and it delights me to no end.
“the cancelling the opposition between inside and outside”, hiding, repairing, listening to when it’s time to return home so the oboe of your body can once again sing…
I have never been to Paris, and given my life, it looks quite unlikely. However, your writing gives me a taste of the city. Such is the gift of your writing.
I am the stereotypical New York speed walker, but in Paris I have to remind myself to slow down for many reasons.
Once, still in NYC mode, as I was trying to maneuver around a slower walking person, I ran myself into one of those metal posts about three feet high that separate a narrow sidewalk from a narrow street (Rue de Seine). A very painful collision!
Thank you for reminding me once again of this marvellous city. Lately I've found Parisians not to be the gentle people I used to get along with well, but my latest few trips showed me that this is changing. I got stuck at the metro a few yeasrs ago with a mob of people "enjoying" the good weather and it was not the most pleasant experience. But, always a great city. Go to the Shakespeare & Company bookshop at 37 Rue de la Bûcherie if you have time. Marvellous experience. Enjoy Paris!
omg that stew!!!
Yep,, you should make it!
I like this chapter's spirit, the dreamer's intimacy connecting with the oboe. Repair is a hopeful endeavor.
Lovely. Hopeful. Always hope?
"If only I could paint this." Oh Mary, but you HAVE, in words. And the picture is stunning. 😊
So, kind of you, Rebecca. You are a love--and the Austen museum stuff: for me: Who knew? Thrilling to see the photos of her room, clothes and you!
"But then the oboe is lying on a bureau. It waits for him—like a demand: When will you be home? When will you play me?"
Oboe, clarinets, and saxophones. A tenor sax, all my life.
Lovely, Jay. We connect, don't we? Reading, like a chord in a musical composition that crosses borders with song.
Oh how I’ve missed your words! Reading you is a bit like doing a scavenger hunt…if I’m not fully paying attention I miss clues early on that inevitably enlighten clues forthcoming. Everything builds on everything that came before and it delights me to no end.
“the cancelling the opposition between inside and outside”, hiding, repairing, listening to when it’s time to return home so the oboe of your body can once again sing…
Exactly, my friend. Exactly! Your delight gives hope. Had to add that, dear reader!
Captures the sensuality of touch, taste, travel, and dreams.
Oh, Russell, your words mean so much. Am a bit behind on your posts. Off to your site. With love, Mary
I have never been to Paris, and given my life, it looks quite unlikely. However, your writing gives me a taste of the city. Such is the gift of your writing.
And now to find some rabbit for a recipe...
Call your butcher! Butchers secret this delicacy, but if you ask, you will find.
Good to know!!!!
Lovely, Mary. Like David, I have good memories of walking in Paris (though I will say again that Prague is unbeatable in this regard, too!).
That repair shop image, and the echoes of it in your own healing, is exquisite. The recipe looks fantastic, too.
That's you, the lovely reader. My heart to yours.
Thanks Mary. Paris and walking go together!
I am the stereotypical New York speed walker, but in Paris I have to remind myself to slow down for many reasons.
Once, still in NYC mode, as I was trying to maneuver around a slower walking person, I ran myself into one of those metal posts about three feet high that separate a narrow sidewalk from a narrow street (Rue de Seine). A very painful collision!
I know the feeling, David. So, glad you're reading again. Good to have you back here.
Thank you for reminding me once again of this marvellous city. Lately I've found Parisians not to be the gentle people I used to get along with well, but my latest few trips showed me that this is changing. I got stuck at the metro a few yeasrs ago with a mob of people "enjoying" the good weather and it was not the most pleasant experience. But, always a great city. Go to the Shakespeare & Company bookshop at 37 Rue de la Bûcherie if you have time. Marvellous experience. Enjoy Paris!
Already been to Shakespeare & Company--not to be missed because of what Sylvia Beach did for James Joyce! Love this, Dr. Levent.