Accouche!

Coucou mes lecteurs!

My recent purchase of a used book full of day trips in the outskirts of Paris has proved a rich source of escapades, none of which I have yet shared with you. Hundreds of pictures document these excursions, as well as sojourns closer to home and, most recently, a weekend trip to Bordeaux. I even thought of you, dear readers, as I sketched in my mental notes and framed my photographs.

As I contemplate the task ahead, I am reminded of an expression in French: Alors, t'accouches! Roughly the equivalent of "spit it out," it literally tells the listener to give birth.

Which in turn reminds me of a conversation I had a few weeks ago with my thesis advisor. A beautiful, passionate Frenchwoman with whom my classmates and I all have devastating crushes, she is always telling us ne vous inquiétez pas, don't worry. She had just finished forbidding me to worry (again) a few weeks ago, when I'd only drafted a page, but I wanted to assure her quand même that I'd done plenty of research, that I just hadn't yet gotten the chance to transform what I'd gathered into written pages.

C'est comme si j'étais enceinte (It's as if I were pregnant), I tried to explain. In marked contrast to our first dogged communications, we can now converse fluently and spontaneously, which leads to debates about the feminization of French métiers and the etymological evolution of spelling. But now and then I still make weird mistakes, and the flicker of confusion in her brow told me she suspected this was one of those times.

Enceinte? she repeated. Vous ne voulez pas dire... enceinte (You don't mean, pregnant)? She made a hand motion to indicate the shape of a pregnant belly.

Si, I insisted. Je me suis remplie de pensées, et maintenant il ne faut qu'accoucher (I've filled myself with thoughts, and now I just need to give birth).

Ah, je comprends, she laughed. And after I sent her several pages with translations four days later, she remarked that I'd fulfilled my promise.

Today I found out that Proust used the same metaphor when discussing his novel. A metaphor that's good enough for Proust is certainly good enough for me.

So I promise to you, mes tulipes, very soon, an accouchement. The labor will be intensive, but I hope the results will be worth all of our trouble.

Meanwhile, here are a few miscellanous Paris pictures to tide you over, with flighty, springtime-appropriate commentary, possessing neither continuity nor cohesion.

Dans le jardin de ta pensée

Mes lapins, it is back to school with me. Having some structure again spurs me, in general, to get more done. So here I am, presenting some findings.

Several of you suggested the Jardin du Luxembourg. This is for all of you, but surtout for Katie, who suggested it first.

To live an experience in order to recount it later is to don a pair of mental bifocals. On one hand, you focus on your own sensations, your own present experience, your own habits, in interpreting the world around you. On the other, you understand that you see that others may see.

Remember we are flânant, not speed-walking. So be prepared to take your time.

Follow me.

Où flâner?

Chers lecteurs, kindly be sure to read the end of this post, as I have a favor to ask of you.

Winter, listlessness, and a very sticky illness have kept me from being up and about all day during my school vacation. Not to mention that when you haven’t got much money and you’re trying to shed some winter pounds, your activity options get cut down a bit.

But the weather is warming; the days are lengthening. In response, I have become, once again, a flâneur.

When I didn’t yet have a Navigo pass, which allows one unlimited Métro access, I walked nearly everywhere. Even though I bought my tickets in carnets of 10, it still cost 1,20 euros per trip—which makes you think before descending down those steps. And in walking everywhere, I found weird and wonderful stuff: taxidermy and antique shops, chocolatiers and confiseries, surprising boutiques and cafés and churches and public buildings of all kinds. I got lost a lot in those days, without the iPhone with its maps and search and compass that can now get me un-lost in a matter of seconds (and even give me a tip for a good nearby café). But even now that I can orient myself easily—especially now, since I know how to get somewhere else quickly if I need to—it’s good fun to wander into places I have no reason to be.

For the past couple of days, I have not once ridden the Métro. I have walked through and around seven or eight arrondissements, right and left bank. Today I walked up the route of ligne 8, meandered through the 1e and 2e, then threaded from the Opéra Garnier down to Les Deux Magots and walked home roughly along the route of ligne 12. I took pictures and detours and paused in front of pretty windows, looking for all the world like a tourist.

Mes loups, I am having a marvelous time of it.

Therefore, I want to try something new. This week, while I still have a bit of time to do nothing in particular, I would like a new idea: a generative constraint, if you will.

So here's my call to arms. In the comments section, pitch a route for me to flâner. It can be a quartier, an arrondissement, or even a specific street or monument as a starting point.

I will pick one of your suggestions, flâner, and post in greater-than-usual detail.

Memento Mori

Mes petits vivants, this is a long post with diverse offerings. But the first and longest leg of the journey takes place in the catacombs.

I offer you the same warning the signposts outside the catacombs offer visitors. Those of you with weak hearts or stomachs may be upset by what's ahead. For the rest of you with a taste for the morbid--greetings, brothers and sisters!--welcome to L'Empire de la Mort: the Catacombs of Paris.

Mon ancien quartier, le 6ème

As promised, my pictures from playing tourist on my last day living in the 6ème. I'm of the opinion that a person can see better (read: professional) pictures of major monuments and attractions by doing a good ol' fashioned Google image search. I've included some links to get you started.

Instead, I prefer to show pictures that show you a perspective, that capture a particular instant or help one occupy better a described space (the occasion for my next picture post). So here's my 6ème; enjoy.