Paris Musings
A collection of Parisian thoughts.
Paris wakes up slowly and with ease. The sun begins to cast a golden glow over the stone buildings while a stillness engulfs the empty cafes sprinkled through the cobblestone alleys. With the streets deserted and boutiques dark, Paris is surprisingly quiet and captivatingly calm. I tie my running shoes and feel the tight pressure press against the instep of my foot, eager to embrace the tranquility of an otherwise bustling city. As I head out to the Seine River, the rhythm of my shoes hitting the pavement becomes more prominent and melodic with each galloping stride. Soon I’m lost in thought, taking in the small moments of the Parisian lifestyle.
There’s a fine level of detail in every passing moment. Buildings are a pristine cream and decorated with delicate metal railings. Green plants and vines drape over balconies that line the river and windows slowly start to creep open. I can’t help but think about the people living in these homes overlooking the city. As the window curtains unveil and vertical shutter stiles are flipped, the warm light embraces each living room and greets those just getting out of bed. It makes me think of being home in SF and there’s a brief moment where I long for the smell of coffee coming from our “Funk Room” and a relaxing morning on our L couch, overlooking the San Francisco Bay.
I quickly snap out of this daze as the street light turns red and cars growl through the intersection. As I peer down the street awaiting the light, I notice small stencil sketches come alive on the side of a building. I start to feel Paris’ street art overtake my thoughts.
The streets in the city have become a dynamic center of art filled with creative expression. We had the opportunity to dive into this culture a bit further when Mr. Byste, a local street artist, led us through a street art tour a few days prior in Belleville. During our walk through the neighborhood, he led us to Rue Denoyez, a multicultural art haven, filled with sketches, tags, and murals covering every square inch of the buildings. Looking closer, we noticed hundreds of painted layers peeling off walls, revealing street art from the past. We learned that decades of art lay underneath the top surface, most of which were covered by the police in attempt to discourage aspiring artists. Like other street art scenes in cities across the world, Paris artists operate in a gray area - a fine line between commissioned art and vandalization. Cops are always on the lookout for artists at work but this doesn’t stop artistic expression. Artists just get creative with their tactics. Many artists operate during odd hours of the day/night. Some artists create efficiencies focus on poster art or stencil tactics. Practice and fine tuning this craft can also not simply be done on the streets. One of the most fascinating elements of street art in Paris was the “secret” community found below the city in abandoned tunnels and chambers linked to the catacombs. Getting to this location isn’t for the fair hearted - hence why it’s still classified as a secret. Many artists maneuver through tight holes and high waters just access pristine practicing walls - the perfect place to create art in peace. While we didn’t see this for ourselves, it was extraordinary to think about an entire new world of Paris that shines with vibrant art and expression.
Suddenly the light turns green and I’m brought back to my urban running path. I make my way around the Jardin de Tuileries where intricate sculptures are tucked along bushes. I begin to see other runners pass by, equally as entranced with the world around them. There are small flower stalls and knickknack vendors starting to set up shop, awaiting for the inevitable explosion. As I begin to make my way back, it’s like a light flicked on in the city. Paris is awake and energized. People begin to flood the gardens with cameras in hand ready to capture each moment of their day. Small, colorful flags wave in the air as tour guides signal their meetup location. Children are bee-lining it to the carousels, dressed in outfits trendier than anything I packed in my suitcase. Quickly my run becomes a maze as I weave in and out of the bustling city.
On my way back, it isn’t long before the bakeries begin to exude velvety scents of butter and the sour stenches from formageries seep into the streets. People make their way in and out of shops, freshly caffeinated and croissant in hand. My stomach starts to growl.
Every morning, this transition sends immediate energy through me. It’s as if I’m lining up at the starting line, ready for a marathon race. There’s the excited anticipation for what’s to come. This feeling is a constant reminder of why this is one of my favorite cities in Europe.
