I was recently in Paris. Sometimes its nice to go back to the city and slow down. You actually haven’t got a choice. If you don’t want to slow down the service, the people and the city will force you.
I walked the streets taking pictures of things I had seen a thousand times but every time I see them they seem to change. Some day I may go back over all my photos of the city and realize nothing has really changed except for the day, the light and ultimately me. That could be why Paris is so important. It doesn’t change, everything around it does. A stable, non changing city in a world of maddeningly rapid change. Breathe.
So I was sitting at a cafe being forced to slow down when I painted this view of where Napoleon is buried. I waited a few minutes for the waiter to come. He didn’t. I turned and stared inside towards the bar. The bartender and the waiter stared back acknowledging my presence but not showing any desire to serve me. Semi frustrated and mildly amused I took out my paints and started painting.
It was only then that I got served. I got my coffee half way through the sketch and my croissant as I was adding the blue sky. In the end they forced me to wait. What did I get out of it?
I stared at the tomb longer then maybe I should have. I pondered it. I hated parts of it and loved others. As you can see I painted it. In the end I slowed, I got my coffee, croissant and an important self made memory. Only in Paris.