Petra

Friday is market day on my street and it's a busy day for our local mendicant population. Petra is at his post in front of the G20 supermarket where I usually buy milk and cereal. I'm not normally very generous but there's something about the way that this fellow makes eye contact, clutching a photo of his wife and eight children in his left hand, his right hand cupped in supplication - dipping his head and stretching out his hand as each potential donor passes by.

Once, during the holidays, I gave him a two euro coin, and was rewarded with a blessing for my entire family as he pointed to the sky beaming and gesturing. "Dio bene toda sua familia." Spanish? Italian? What language is he speaking? It doesn't sound like French.

I have a homework assignment for my photography class and after placing a coin in his palm, I ask permission to take his photograph. He's clearly delighted. He stands tall, holds his photograph proudly in front of him and puts on his most distinguished face.


I was hoping to capture that disarming smile of his or the blessing I'd received before. But no, photographs are a proud and serious business. I try to get him to relax by engaging him in conversation. I ask about the family in the photograph. "Si, mi familia" he manages to convey - but I can see we have a serious language obstacle. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his identity card. He proudly shows me his name "Petra" and I can see that he is from Romania. No wonder we have a language barrier.

I returned this morning with a copy of the photo that I've taken. He's sitting down today, and when he sees the photo he's delighted. He immediately takes off his hat and asks me to take more photos. He also offers his hand. I shake his hand and in a gallant gesture he kisses the back of my hand and offers another blessing as he points to the sky.


I leave him holding his new photograph. What have I started?

Eiffel Tower

Rule number 1 in my writing and photography class is "no trite clichés", in other words, try to find a unique subject or at least a unique angle. Well my friends, here's yet another picture of the most photographed subject in Paris. But I just can't help it. . . . I walked out the door of the library yesterday evening and she took my breath away.

Student days

I am currently enrolled in several writing courses and one photography class here in Paris. It gives structure to my days and pushes me to explore and expand my limits as I learn from teachers younger and more accomplished than myself. I enjoy my homework assignments although I am suddenly self conscious about what I write and the pictures that I take. As a former teacher and coach, I am also aware of the importance of good teaching styles - how to combine the best qualities of knowledge, experience, preparation, and organization while adapting to the unique composition of each group of students.

I'm not sure where these classes and this adventure will lead, but I am enjoying the ride and will be reporting on my progress. Thanks for accompanying me on this ride. Perhaps one day I'll be a teacher again?

Another side of Paris

Paris is more than elegant shops and beautiful monuments

One Year to a Writing Life

Charlie sent me books for Christmas - an unbroken tradition that goes back as long as I can remember. Despite the fact that we aren't together any more, despite our second divorce in 2008, he still knows me better than anyone else on the planet. And he knows that books make me happy. He said it was hard this year, having no idea which books I already have, which ones I've already read.

The box from Charlie arrived shortly before Christmas. I ripped open the packaging and squealed with pleasure when I saw that he'd sent me "One Year to a Writing Life" by Susan Tiberghien. How did he know? I'd already noted the 19th of January on the calendar - the date when Susan Tiberghien would be at the American Library in Paris to talk about her book. I hadn't bought the book yet, but intended to. Here is Susan (on the left) during her presentation at the American Library.


"One Year to a Writing Life: Twelve Lessons to Deepen Every Writer's Art and Craft" offers both inspiration and instruction with examples and exercises touching on writing that ranges from journal writing and personal essays, to fiction, poetic prose, and memoir. The book has an excellent bibliography as well as dozens of practical suggestions for the aspiring writer.

I was especially attracted to book because, in addition to the exercises in the book, I found Susan's personal story inspiring as well. An American woman married to a Frenchman, she didn't start writing until the age of 50 - after raising six children in France, Italy, and Switzerland. Her first book was published at 60. So there's hope for those of us who got a late start!

I also signed up for Susan's workshop at Shakespeare and Co. on Saturday afternoon. The afternoon was well spent - not only because of the writing exercises, but also because I met other women who are interested in creating an ongoing writing group here in Paris. Susan proved to be a warm and generous teacher. Here she is (on the right) answering a question during a break


And with her husband of 50+ years, Pierre


You can see from her website that Susan has a full schedule of teaching and speaking events. I hope to travel to Geneva to participate in future sessions of her Geneva Writer's Group. In the meantime, I have work to do if I want to consider myself a writer!

Words and Images

I'm currently signed up for some writing classes and am working on a couple of stories that are not quite ready for prime time. So as I smooth out the rough edges in my writing, I thought I'd share a few more photos from this week.

The weather last Sunday really was exceptional, and after Notre Dame in the morning, I went to the Louvre in the afternoon.


By the way, I've been in Paris for about 10 months now, but still haven't been inside the Louvre - yet.

This is the Arc du Carrousel which marks the entrance to the Tuileries Garden from the Louvre



The Tuileries Garden was packed on a sunny Sunday afternoon. You can see the Grande Roue (large ferris wheel) at the other end. There is an uninterrupted line between the Louvre, the Place de la Concorde with its Obélisque, then the Champs Élysées crowned by the Arc de Triomphe.


Place de la Concorde with Grande Roue and Obélisque


Finally, continuing the straight line from the Arc de Triomphe west to the modern skyscrapers which make up La Défense, you have La Grande Arche

Staying in touch

Surprise! Andrea popped up in Paris this week. We've stayed in touch, spending hours talking via Skype when he called my computer from Barcelona or from Milan over the holidays. I was surprised when my cell phone rang on Monday, showing Andrea as the caller. Where are you? I asked, surprised that he was calling my phone rather than my computer. "I'm at Châtelet, here in Paris. Are you busy?" I was just finishing an email response to Dominique and the gray day suddenly brightened. We agreed to meet at the Odeon metro station. By the way, here's a picture of Andrea:


No, it's not a romance - we really are at different stages in our lives - but we have a unique connection and I am happy to provide a sounding board as he sorts through a myriad of options in his personal and professional life. I enjoy our conversations and our rare meetings.