Karol and I walked around the River Seine yesterday. It was a public holiday, Bastille Day, and we picnic-ed in a lovely park nearby. Later I did a drawing or 2. It was peaceful and lovely. At times the day was warm and blue, at other times we ran for cover under a bridge laughing during a short shower.
That night we went to a high vantage point and stood in a large crowd watching the fireworks pour out of the Eiffel Tower. Everything seemed so calm and non-plussed. People out with their lovers and family and friends. Laughing, talking, maybe smoking too much.
I filmed this busker earlier in the day playing in the park where we had our bench-side lunch. Notice the little sparrow also singing nearby - look closely. This is Paris, this is how life can be, but not just here.
That night we went to a high vantage point and stood in a large crowd watching the fireworks pour out of the Eiffel Tower. Everything seemed so calm and non-plussed. People out with their lovers and family and friends. Laughing, talking, maybe smoking too much.
I filmed this busker earlier in the day playing in the park where we had our bench-side lunch. Notice the little sparrow also singing nearby - look closely. This is Paris, this is how life can be, but not just here.
Bastille Day was of course celebrated everywhere in France. In the famous Riviera sea-side town of Nice, a lunatic terrorist drove a truck through crowds of revellers and upwards of 80 innocents where murdered and many more injured.
Karol and I had just returned to our Paris apartment after the day I described above. At about midnight we where alerted by family and friends of the atrocities in Nice. Stunned we lay in bed listening to the sirens outside. (The sirens have been a constant background noise during our week in Paris). How do we process this news. If we had booked our trip exactly a week earlier we too would have been among the many, celebrating Bastille Day in Nice (as it stands we will be there in a week from now).
Only our imaginations can complete this scenario. The horror of what could have been must be put aside. The magnificent question is how can we make this world unbroken? In my innocent youth I thought that care and love directed to my fellow man and woman would be the salve to repair and cure the sickness of human nature. As crazy as it sounds, I still believe that.
Karol and I had just returned to our Paris apartment after the day I described above. At about midnight we where alerted by family and friends of the atrocities in Nice. Stunned we lay in bed listening to the sirens outside. (The sirens have been a constant background noise during our week in Paris). How do we process this news. If we had booked our trip exactly a week earlier we too would have been among the many, celebrating Bastille Day in Nice (as it stands we will be there in a week from now).
Only our imaginations can complete this scenario. The horror of what could have been must be put aside. The magnificent question is how can we make this world unbroken? In my innocent youth I thought that care and love directed to my fellow man and woman would be the salve to repair and cure the sickness of human nature. As crazy as it sounds, I still believe that.