As a tourist, it’s hard to feel comfortable in your own skin. Even when you try to blend in, the red of your hair or the bright purple gingham underneath your sweater gives you away; as if the Nikon camera in your messenger bag wasn’t enough.
I learned straight away that I am too loud, less pronunciated, and less confident then most French women. Those who know me will defy my recent learnings preposterous: why, I am confident! However.. I may be learning my sense of confidence may border on the line of narcissism, rather than true self acceptance.
The beauty in all that surrounds me is breathtaking. As we turn every corner, my mind exalts, and my senses turn into overdrive.
I imagine women in petticoats, lace, and shoestring heels walking in cobblestone streets to the latest opera or after party. Mirages of white curls and wigs flood my mind.
Today I learned that I am so very capable of mediating my tone to match my environment; this will come in handy stateside, if I choose to remember to follow it. Even though I am bold, with layers of gold and exquisite precious metals, if not kept polished, I may turn green with overgrowth and tarnish.
By choice then, I must remember to meander through life forever conforming to the space I inhabit, in whichever facet of discovery I wish to explore.
Cuvée Chamapgne is my favorite because it blends all of the three main grapes traditionally used in fermentation together; slightly sweet and creamy, it will pair with almost any meal.
An afternoon Paris must.