Paris post

Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.  – Miriam Beard 

I was talking to a friend in Memphis on the phone the other day and she commented that I must be having a good time here in Paris because I wrote so much when we were in Central America, and so little since being here.  And it got me thinking why that is…

Partly, I suppose, it is a function of being busy.  Between going to school to learn this silly language (n.b. Frenchies, your language is ridiculous), and also working a lot, and also just trying to be out there in this glorious city experiencing everything it has to offer… Well, after all that, there’s not a whole lot of time to just sit and reflect and write.

But part of it is also that I haven’t wanted to.

I jokingly said to her, “What could I possible say that Hemmingway didn’t already… and better!?”  But in all seriousness, for real.  This is Paris.  So many amazing people have come here before me.  So many talented people will come here after I leave.  Every street holds a history; every corner café boasts a story of one famous artist or writer who came there at one point and left an indelible mark.  What would I, or could I, possibly add to what’s already been said?

Bu also, there is also a strange comfort in this place; there is a sense of fatalism that you can easily get swept up in.  I worry far less than I used to about the meaning of life, or about what I am “supposed” to be doing with mine.  Because it is enough to just be here.  To soak it all in.

So, have all those pastries and sun-soaked afternoons made me lazy?  Or am I paralyzed by the ghosts of those who have come before me?  I don’t know.  I don’t suppose it matters either way!  But I would like to try to post a little bit more about what it is we’re doing here.  And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.