This afternoon I set out to walk about Paris. To walk without a plan, to go wherever my fancy took me which meant without too much aim, to walk with only pleasure at hand.
Starting point the Rue du Chateau in the 14th.
I took this photo in a courtyard, the door was open beckoning me to venture inside, in the back there was a small cafe. A little boy maybe three or four years old with dark blue shorts carried a plastic ball up the steps. I wanted to take his photo but his father gave me that look that said, "...forget about it."
The atmosphere could have been a movie set 1940s.
Florence C., a blog reader of Tongue in Cheek and friend told me about a beautiful place called: BULY. When I saw the street sign, Rue Bonaporte I let pleasure led me to #6. The owner Victorie de Taillac greeted me. We spoke about the 18th century engravings hanging in her shop... she mentioned that her mother had them stapled to her bathroom wall. A woman of similar sensibilities, a woman who would do such a thing... music to my ears!
The shop... not short of stunning, a walk back in time. Way back to that period that creates a wave of wonder and awe. From floor to ceiling, plus the perfume wares, stunning. Food for the soul, I was refreshed and walked on.
(To see more click on the link above.)
Looking out from the imaginary mountain top: Deyrolle's second floor since 1831 a collection of shells, insects, butterflies, taxidermy... a cabinet of curiosities that spans far beyond the two floors of this magnificent house.
A hundred times inside cannot stop me from going inside yet again.
Men at work.
What is new is not, what is old is reborn, what is has been waiting and will be with sparks that burst the hidden seeds of creativity.
Its all there waiting to be watered.
Two men painting a door blue made me go the big bang theory.
A meditative walkabout which included window shopping.
it had to be.
1940s crystal glasses with square bases.
Sixteen, three sets in various sizes.
Mousse au chocolat or
Added those to my walkabout.
All around the town.
I think I left a foot in the Marais, and another at Fragonard.
and a little bit of my heart planted in a million places.