Ahh, the Louvre or Musee National Picasso Paris, no? No. The painters in Paris are real painters and the canvases, the buildings. The pictures? Our lives. To see Paris and only see the monuments, the places in the travel books should be a crime and would be in heaven, which is near to what this city has to offer. This morning on my trip to the Tabac (tobacco shop) I spied the man in front of me entering the shop, his pants spattered with the colours du jour for every day for a month. It made me think of the way our lives go by. Sometimes. Blue. Sometimes red. Sometimes another. But the number of colours pales in comparison to the number of people who can not see them - those who live their days in only black and white. Today for me will go down as a very blue day but for someone else it was just black or white - and that makes me sad. Because the rainbow was there and all she needed to do was reach out and touch it, but that would have erased the black and the white and those were the only colours she had convinced herself she was comfortable with. Au revoir dear Yen.
For more in the WWE Goes West Series check here:
I) The Wild Wild East Goes West: Onward Ho!
III) C'est Si Bon
IV) Bon Jour Paris!
V) Les Picassos en Paris
VI) Nothing Much Happened en Paree Today
VII) Paris Wallpaper: Sometimes The Best Prayers Have No Words
VIII) Au Revoir Paris
IX) Is Publicis Groupe a Dead Brand?