This week France celebrated the 14 juillet, or Bastille Day, as our side of the pond likes to call it. I have celebrated twice before on the roof of my building, but my parties might have been
the reason a contributing factor in the fact that the no one in the building is allowed any roof access anymore. Still, after climbing 8 flights of stairs, the stairwell gave us the best view around to watch fireworks explode from the Eiffel tower. There are many things I wish I could give all of you who read here. Obviously, many of them are big things, important things, things like a lasting knowledge of saving grace, a place of belonging, a network of people who know and love you. But there are also more trivial things I wish I could give you and that list grows longer when I am in Paris. I wish I could give the taste of a perfect fresh baguette, hot and crispy and wrapped in brown paper. I wish I could give you the sound that your feet make when you walk down the old cobblestone streets of this city. And perhaps most of all, I wish that I could give all of you that moment, high above the city, when the lit tower starts sparkling like a million camera flashes, or the sun glinting of a million diamonds. I wish I could give you that, and hear your sharp intake of breath and softly whispered wow. I wish I could see you reduced to the child that that glittering tower brings out in all of us.
- "Art rediscovers, generation by generation, what is necessary to humanness. " -John Gardner
Lately, on InstagramAnd so it begins. Summertime is the drug I just can’t quit. 😎💦(Pitocin is obviously the drug I realllyyyy wish someone would agree to let me start, however, as my love of summertime is just a tad tempered by being six thousand months pregnant.)No, YOU have a problem. I, on the other hand, just have a consistent fashion motif. #gimmealldemstripes