Paris is a city that of course needs to no introduction.  I wait thirty-nine years to visit.  I am not sure what takes me so long.  I am not sure I should have made the trip.  Maybe the Paris in my head is better. The patina of this city, the feeling, must be an in person experience, I will admit right away.  From the moment I arrive.  It must be felt.  Snow happens much of my time here.  It is January.  Good.  My coats need to be worn.  The only snow that happens in Los Angeles, California is made on movie sets.  Once outside of a bar in Santa Monica too.  Ye Old Kings Head.   This year, I skip the fake snow and I go to Paris alone.  I fall in love..

Sitting on my couch in my apartment in Los Angeles, I hear the words echo.  Louder than the real life words.  The lady from across the bar had says to me, “live your life.”  I am still bartending at the time.  She was referring to me sliding down the OUE Skyspace LA slide atop the US Bank Tower.  As I sit, I start to cry. Sob uncontrollably really.  I don’t cry much until this past couple years it seems. It is Thanksiving.  Anyway, holidays often do this.  Not to me.  In general.  This year to me.  They bring intense emotions.  Joy, upset or a combination of both.  I am usually pretty even keel.  Regular exerciser and adding the twice a day meditations for the last couple of years, how could I not be.  I haven’t missed one.  Human is human.  I stare at my phone and as if someone else is typing, I GOOGLE search Paris, France airline tickets.  Paris is always a good idea, right!?  Hundreds of flights with different dates and times appear on my 4.7 inches of iPhone screen…

To be continued…










Words and other images.. you know, coming soon..





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