Turned in my entries for the art exhibition. Here’s to luck and good fortune…
Spent the day purging, tossing, clearing, ripping up old documents. Time for cleaning things out. Also purged old clothes from the closet. On the stereo: French café music, swirl of accordion, musette pipes, guitar, violin.
There they are, crowded in the small space amid cigarette smoke, sweat, perfume, wine, beer. They dance, they fight, they kiss, they love—oh, how they love…
Reading a novel about a young woman who makes a spontaneous first-time trip to Paris after she’s resigned her hateful job and left her moron boss. She meets a handsome guy at a dance club who takes her on a nighttime tour of Paris on his motorbike. While they look out over the grand city from the grounds of the Sacre Coeur, the eastern horizon glows with sunrise. I sit and read this and glance every so often at the Ernst Haas print of the view of Paris from Notre Dame.
C returns from teaching a day-long seminar; we discuss what has changed and how we’ve changed over the last few years. More talk of spirit and spirituality. And I’ve begun reading "Le Petit Prince" after many years, this time in French.
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There are many paths to enlightenment. Be sure to take one with a heart.
So we follow our wandering paths, and the very darkness acts as our guide and our doubts serve to reassure us.
--Jean-Pierre de Caussade