You're dumbstruck baby, dumbstruck baby
1/06/07
It's getting on to the late evening here. This 10 pm to 11pm murmur of a courtyard out my window, high heels on cobblestones, occasional cries and of course, the staple of the French city soundtrack, the adverse ambulances, scooting around. And yet, remarkably, fittingly, everything tonight is remaining low, reminding me of the music so easily occuring, the TV on mute, watching ARTE, something about the TGV Est, and I can't hear a thing, even in this week night inquietude. Tomorrow will be my last full day of classes. My last lesson, of about 30 + lessons on varying topics, ending there, tomorrow, on "Hello, goodbye" by the Beatles, and maybe one last game of kickball. It's very difficult to imagine the time of this year here, this less than a year here, all the bridge crossings, dusk walks, the small parties in my studio, and all the times I had to wait in line at fucking ATAC. What's even stranger than the silence that continues to occupy this night, is the disorder my room is in. I leave in less than a week, a definitive departure this time, no more short jaunts, allers and retours, for once in these last 8 months, I will once again be packing up for the long haul. And one would think that the masquerade of my life has always been these departures, the eves, all the angoisse that comes with starting a life up out of nothing only to leave it soon enough. Basically, my room is in such a state as to have the air of nothing changing, that is, everything is where it was, where it has been and seemingly, where it will be.
Je vais trouver la parole, je vais trouver ma memoire.
02/06/07
Today for the first time I felt similar sentiments that I once had for Bordeaux. And why, all I did was have the end of the year party with my kids. They sang like champs, and Anouk said a heart-melting goodbye, curtseying, saying "Monsieur, est-ce que ma dessin vous a plu?," and the little drawing of a bear and a heart send my head spinning into a room filled with this years moments. Later, I napped and met up with Léa and Fani, eating chocolatines at Place Jeanne d'Arc. Then we met up with Samuel out at the Parc des Expositions, where I once saw Sarkozy belittle '68, to fill envelopes for the upcoming legislative elections in France. We laughed and some French woman took my email so she could email me questions about English for her daughter. Léa and I drove home, and it felt nice, and I thought maybe I could live here long-term. That maybe I could build something real here, and then my mind drifted, as the clouds parted and we passed Place St. Louis too fast, so lost. I can't understand anything about how my mind has moved over this time. I think, finally, arriving somewhere I never expected, somewhere far from where I came - "How I was where I was, How I got to where I went" - and I'm so unsteady, yet calm, knowing I'll be able to make it anyway. I think Europe will never be too far, and I will be able to return, and I think I will be able to make something real here, one day, rectify my losses with moderation, fall in love again. Today has been all over the place, from rain to sun, from excitement to tears, and always back again.
And that finally, je mérite l'amour qu'il me faut, and thats what it comes down to.
It's getting on to the late evening here. This 10 pm to 11pm murmur of a courtyard out my window, high heels on cobblestones, occasional cries and of course, the staple of the French city soundtrack, the adverse ambulances, scooting around. And yet, remarkably, fittingly, everything tonight is remaining low, reminding me of the music so easily occuring, the TV on mute, watching ARTE, something about the TGV Est, and I can't hear a thing, even in this week night inquietude. Tomorrow will be my last full day of classes. My last lesson, of about 30 + lessons on varying topics, ending there, tomorrow, on "Hello, goodbye" by the Beatles, and maybe one last game of kickball. It's very difficult to imagine the time of this year here, this less than a year here, all the bridge crossings, dusk walks, the small parties in my studio, and all the times I had to wait in line at fucking ATAC. What's even stranger than the silence that continues to occupy this night, is the disorder my room is in. I leave in less than a week, a definitive departure this time, no more short jaunts, allers and retours, for once in these last 8 months, I will once again be packing up for the long haul. And one would think that the masquerade of my life has always been these departures, the eves, all the angoisse that comes with starting a life up out of nothing only to leave it soon enough. Basically, my room is in such a state as to have the air of nothing changing, that is, everything is where it was, where it has been and seemingly, where it will be.
Je vais trouver la parole, je vais trouver ma memoire.
02/06/07
Today for the first time I felt similar sentiments that I once had for Bordeaux. And why, all I did was have the end of the year party with my kids. They sang like champs, and Anouk said a heart-melting goodbye, curtseying, saying "Monsieur, est-ce que ma dessin vous a plu?," and the little drawing of a bear and a heart send my head spinning into a room filled with this years moments. Later, I napped and met up with Léa and Fani, eating chocolatines at Place Jeanne d'Arc. Then we met up with Samuel out at the Parc des Expositions, where I once saw Sarkozy belittle '68, to fill envelopes for the upcoming legislative elections in France. We laughed and some French woman took my email so she could email me questions about English for her daughter. Léa and I drove home, and it felt nice, and I thought maybe I could live here long-term. That maybe I could build something real here, and then my mind drifted, as the clouds parted and we passed Place St. Louis too fast, so lost. I can't understand anything about how my mind has moved over this time. I think, finally, arriving somewhere I never expected, somewhere far from where I came - "How I was where I was, How I got to where I went" - and I'm so unsteady, yet calm, knowing I'll be able to make it anyway. I think Europe will never be too far, and I will be able to return, and I think I will be able to make something real here, one day, rectify my losses with moderation, fall in love again. Today has been all over the place, from rain to sun, from excitement to tears, and always back again.
And that finally, je mérite l'amour qu'il me faut, and thats what it comes down to.