I am dizzyingly tired. My mother and I had an uneventful journey, our room is lovely, the restaurant downstairs was lovely, I love this city. And it’s cold and perfect.

I surprised myself by actually carrying on conversations in French. Like actual back and forth, multiple sentence exchanges.

The emotional shift I experience when I am suddenly anywhere but here is so visceral. I walked out of the hotel after dinner, and I just felt — happy. Okay. Confident and capable and a little sexy, and as though I rediscovered the me-shaped hole in around which I ooze, poking feebly at the edges, and remembered there is a shape to it after all.

I wish I could ever feel that when I live in a space, instead of existing by definition of my absence.

Have some pictures anyway.


good yard,


This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s