Sunday, March 02, 2008

why paris?...musing #4

Tess asked me yesterday why it is that I was so drawn to Paris to come on this grand adventure. Initially I said, "I don't know." We then talked about how if we do have "other lives" then I think at some point in time I was French. I have thought that in some way most of my life. As a little girl (and now a grown up one), I discovered that my family has very little knowledge of our ancestry or heritage. And so I have often felt quite assured (by myself at least) that someone in my long history came from France.

When I started "creating" a couple of years ago in the "Awakening the Creative Spirit" program we were asked to write about our muse and this is the poem that popped out of me. Hmmmm...

My inner poet is French. Tipped beret and Mona Lisa smile. Her voice rings out with playful laughter, her arms wide open, leaping into darkness and light. She is beautiful and earnest. Seductive and serious. She was born on the wings of angels and birthed out of pain and suffering. I recognize her in the first morning light by the gentle shores of the sea. She is bathed in God’s fragrance and surrounded by belief. What does this inner poet know for sure? She is light. She is dark. Complete and unfinished. A creature of God. A glorious paradox. This poet lives hidden from sight. Covered in blue scarves and white. Peeking through the window and knocking on the door. She lives at home inviting others to come and sit by her fire. Her imagination is infinite. She dreams of knowing and being known, of embracing and being embraced. She desires community, fellowship, peace and solitude. She must speak of everything. The resonant and the dissonant. The beauty and the depravity. The joy and the sorrow. The fullness of life and the darkness of death. She sits on the sidewalks of Life, holding a thin cigarette and dreaming her dreams. Her voice speaks in a beautiful accent. Tipped beret and all-knowing smile. My inner poet is a romantic. She is French.

Last night as I was trying to wind down after another fabulous day, I considered Tess' question again and thought "how could I not be drawn to Paris?" It has all of my favorite things right here (except, of course, my dear family and friends.)

The art is amazing. There is beauty everywhere you look; whether in architecture, God's greatness or "real art." flows through the city in the form of the Seine and periodically falls from the sky to wash everything clean. You can walk everywhere and even in the midst of this large international city, it feels like a neighborhood. This has become home for me in just a few days. There are great buses and who knows maybe I will revive my bus stories while here. Oh, and the food...beautiful, interesting, delicious and sometimes a little scary. I could go on and on, but I will stop with this one confirmation that I am supposed to be here. Paris is the City of Lights and for those of you who don't know it, Lucy means Light!! How perfect is that?

I just wanted to share this little morning musing with you. Once again I am waiting for Tess to arrive so we can go for our cafe au lait and croissant (more later about this fabulous little spot we have found.)

I hope you have a wonderful day today! I know I will!!! Au revoir!!

(more at lucy creates!!!)


Karen said...

The contentment of being in the exact right place at the exact right time...there's nothing like it.

Dianna Woolley said...

I love your post.....and is often the case, ancestry is a back of the mind issue for me also. Regrettably, we obviously did not come from the same family:) as my premonitions have me as definitely Dutch! Isn't that weird. I will have to jot that one down in my journal for future reflection. Have a wonderful day!


Anonymous said...

another great post lucy and I remember your inner poet poem! So glad you can immerse her in her natural habitat! :-)

Anonymous said...

Lucy of the Light,
I see you continually bathed in light in this new city you love so much. There with a friend (not solo for a few days!) and still surrounded by beauty. Your photo of the carousel is all lit up! How appropriate for the you that is experiencing everything with the surprise and adoration a child brings to the world!!

Barbara said...

You set me thinking about what my muse might look like. Mine would be a larger-than-life Italian crying "Mangia! Mangia!"
I second the comment by Cheryl. You do indeed seemed bathed in light.

Dianna Woolley said...

....and btw, I'm assuming those are your shoes in the picture? You see, I go back to these shots to take another look:)

paris parfait said...

Beautiful post!