Still oh so excited to be in Paris, I got up early to look out at the world below. Nothing. I waited a few minutes and looked out again, this time a couple of mothers walking their small children to school. A young man standing in a doorway smoking a cigarette.
I didn’t realize that I screwed up printing my ticket for l’Orangerie until yesterday. Actually the problem was I didn’t print the ticket (with the bar code on it) and only had paper proof that I paid for it. But that was not the only problem. I followed my Maps app to get there but it did not take into consideration the barricade that almost completely surrounded l’Orangerie, due to the dismantling of the equipment used for the Olympics. It was very difficult to even get close to it. I met a woman name Ann from China who also couldn’t figure out how to get in so we walked together through the Tuilleries, in a maze-like path that somehow accidentally got us to the entrance. I think I walked 10,000 steps just trying to get in. It’s a BIG place. Then I just had to figure out how to get in, part 2. I explained my problem to the ticket collector, she took my phone, found my ticket with the bar code in my email. Got in, no problem. I think I worry too much.
I’m not sure I can even come close to describing the Water Lilies (Les Nympheas) by Claude Monet. He created what amounts to a religious experience that has to be… uh… experienced in person. Two elliptical rooms, built to his specifications, each with 4 large paintings of his beloved water lilies from Giverny. A total of 8 sublime masterpieces. Each room had filtered natural light so I saw them twice, in morning and then afternoon light. So beautiful it made my cry.
I almost didn’t go downstairs to see the Paul Guillaume Collection. I was an emotional wreck, and at the same time, I didn’t want to contaminate my religious experience. His name sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it. I went anyway. Paul Guillaume, a friend of Apollinaire’s, had an impressive collection of paintings by Picasso, Modigliani, Rousseau, Matisse and many others. I had never seen any of the paintings, not even in artbooks. So it was a wonderful surprise. He also introduced African art (so called primitive art) to Paris. Also a beautiful collection. l’O did something interesting that I had never seen before. Pure genius, judging from the delighted reaction of the public. His house was well documented with photos, so the l’O made a miniature recreation of his living room, dining room and hallway with teenie tiny color reproductions of his art collection in situ. Amy Rabb, where are you, you would have loved this! I took photos and when I have more time, I will try to incorporate them into this page. Too adorable for words.
I ate a late lunch at an adorable French bistro called Mado. Tres chic, very French, traditional French music playing in the background. Like Edith Piaf singing La Vie en Rose. It was my favorite song when I was a child. I played that record over and over, not understanding a word of it, but relating to the plaintive quality of Piaf’s voice. I was obsessed with her for years. Still am.
On the way to dinner with Brad and his colleagues at Hebe, I stopped to admire Notre Dame. It’s still very beautiful in the late afternoon light, despite the scaffolding, ongoing construction and heavy equipment surrounding it. Not too far is the iconic Shakespeare Book Store, an ancient shop so full of nooks and crannies one could get lost in it. Also got an ice cream at a little chocolate shop called Christian Constant, probably the best I have ever had. Vanilla with saffron ginger. Tres yummy. Had a long conversation with the loquacious owner, who because they make the ice cream fresh every day has to taste it. Everyday. Yeah, she said it’s a tough job. We laughed.
Before I went to bed I checked my steps app: a little over 19,000 steps today. Thank you, l’Orangerie!