Industrial hinge for a broken brocade
I slept in, considering the late night. Took a shower & adorned myself in the usual accoutrements. Decided Pere Lachaise was on the agenda. The subway was easier than ever before. I picked up the 12 instead of the 4. Transferred , no problem. Pere Lachaise is a vast concrete menagerie. It's breathtaking. I used to spend all my adolescent summers reading in graveyards, sprawled out on the graves. I would imagine full stories for the owners of the plots. I would talk to them & ask them about their families. I would read aloud, sophomoric love stories by V.C. Andrews. The difference here being, I know a lot of these grave owners. I went around snapping shots: Chopin, Jim Morrison, Oscar Wild. Je suis un touriste.
I wasn't done when Pere Lachaise was done. I wandered around. Went back to another Metro, took the 3, transferred, went to Champs-Elysees. Saw the obelisk & ferris wheels. Saw the movie Burlesque (in English) at the Goutard. Tiny little theatre with plush red chairs. I love movies when I am by myself. I love movies whenever. The movie was good, for the type of movie it was. Awesome costumes & music & choreography. Made me want to do Burlesque, so there's that. Also made me realize I do not own nearly enough thigh high stockings & hot pants. And what ever happened to me buying that corset at Stormy Leather? I should do that. It's only been 3+ years since I tried it on. I was gaunt then, still surfing the after effects of college degradation. My waist was 7 inches around in that corset, my tattoo cleaving between the laces. Felt good to be so bound & structured. If only leather bound bodices were easy to wear on the daily.
I hope you find the day that you came undone while I absorb what you've done.
-Greg Laswell, Come Undone
Paris feels like San Francisco to me now. Except for more beautiful & liberating. Maybe San Francisco feels too familiar and safe. Paris exists right on that cusp, it's still foreign enough to keep me on my toes, but I feel I belong. I have plans to live here. I need something different.
I wasn't done when Pere Lachaise was done. I wandered around. Went back to another Metro, took the 3, transferred, went to Champs-Elysees. Saw the obelisk & ferris wheels. Saw the movie Burlesque (in English) at the Goutard. Tiny little theatre with plush red chairs. I love movies when I am by myself. I love movies whenever. The movie was good, for the type of movie it was. Awesome costumes & music & choreography. Made me want to do Burlesque, so there's that. Also made me realize I do not own nearly enough thigh high stockings & hot pants. And what ever happened to me buying that corset at Stormy Leather? I should do that. It's only been 3+ years since I tried it on. I was gaunt then, still surfing the after effects of college degradation. My waist was 7 inches around in that corset, my tattoo cleaving between the laces. Felt good to be so bound & structured. If only leather bound bodices were easy to wear on the daily.
I hope you find the day that you came undone while I absorb what you've done.
-Greg Laswell, Come Undone
Paris feels like San Francisco to me now. Except for more beautiful & liberating. Maybe San Francisco feels too familiar and safe. Paris exists right on that cusp, it's still foreign enough to keep me on my toes, but I feel I belong. I have plans to live here. I need something different.