up"date"

i don't care,
if it wasn't even a date.
i'm all smiles.

wish i knew what french etiquette dictates.
he could just be a gent.
he could just be parisian.

it's been a while since i've had a really long conversation,
between almost-strangers
with a language barrier. i
forgot how fun it was.
the awkwardness.
the blank stares.
the hesitance.
and laughs.

overall?

i appreciated his company,
the comfortable silences,
and the memory.

smile. (:

first date?

butterflies.
you remember what those are, right?

that unexpected text that makes you smile,
uncontrollably. stupidly.
am I high?

you want to skip across the room,
you're floating.
gloating,
goddamn -
soaring.

but you're twenty one,
so it's just another date.
just another guy.

you're no longer a teenager.
get a grip.

nothing to be excited about.
it might not even be a date to him.

just meeting a guy,
over drinks.
over coffee.

hell
i'm still not sure what we're doing.

what's the worst that could happen?
at the end of the night -

you can call a fairly good-looking parisian,
a friend.

so why...
don't I have anything to wear?
is my hair a mess?
am i nervous?

just meeting a friend for drinks.
i'm not spazzing or anything.
or the least bit attracted to him.

right.

nervous laugh *
keep telling yourself that.

here's to my date tomorrow.
here's to a funny story.

London.

plane. Luton Airport.
train. countryside.
retrouvaille.
lunch. park. residual shock.
econometrics.
a few beers. introductions.
night view on the thames.
japanese noodle soup.
scalping tickets...
foster the people.
luck level one.
adrenaline. lights.
goosebumps. ecstasy.
high on music.
failed jazz hunt,
ending with cheesecake.
exploration, adventure.
221B Baker Street.
Vanilla Chai Latte.
lions. determination.
Van Gogh, Monet.
top of the world,
on a bus.
"never lose that twinkle"
strangers. warmth.
sleep and happiness.
luck and life.
my life.

Thanksgiving

My brother's birthday is on Thanksgiving this year...

It's going to be my second Thanksgiving away from home.
And my second Christmas away from home.

God, I miss my family.

I sometimes prefer...

to watch movies alone.
to bake while no one's home.
to listen to music in an empty room, and
to go to museums by myself.

I already have ADD (this is fact) -- so when I want to fully appreciate something.
Or when I need time away from my life.
Or when I'm frustrated. Stressed.

I strive to focus.
On anything, but now.

Which is how I happened into le "Musée Marmottan Monet" at 2, rue Louis Boilly, 75016, Paris. Just a few hours ago. At around 11:30 AM. By myself.

It just happened to be on the same street where I was babysitting. And I just happened to have a few hours to kill. So I made a detour -- looked both ways, walked across the street, and stood in line. 5 euros later, camera and phone in coat check; I found myself in one of the most elegant galleries I've ever been in.

I really had no idea what to expect -- some Monet pieces, bien sûr... and with the current "Neo-Impressionism" exhibition, Matisse and Seurat would be sure to be in attendance.

What I never imagined was that I would come face to face with -

"Impression, soleil levant"



... arguably one of my favorite Monet pieces.

The piece that gave the "Impressionist" movement its name.
Impressionists -- marked by their obsession with the accurate depiction of light and movement.

Out of all the slides we saw in my art history classes (and I've taken quite a few - did I mention I originally wanted to go to art school?) -- this one particular piece always held me captive. Why?

This is where I say,

"Did you know...."

That the sun in this painting is actually of the same brightness as the sky around it?
At first glance, it seems as if the sun is the brightest part of the painting.

When I stood in front of it - literally one foot away - it still seemed to me like the orange of the sun was the brightest part of the painting. The contrast of the sun to the background was so stunning that I stood there for what must have been ten minutes just reeling from shock.

I knew what was fact, but I was standing in front of what my eyes told me was reality.
The fact? The sun is as bright as the sky around it.

What does that mean? Well, if you were to take a black and white photograph of this painting -- the sun wouldn't show up at all. It's actually one of the more realistic interpretations of the sky.

So why is that?

Because we can appreciate color.

Unlike other animals...
The world is not black and white.
A small fact.
That makes us very human.
Philosophize that.
A nice reminder.

The ability to distinguish, admire; color - richness - art.

If humans ever lost the ability to perceive color, thousands of years from now -- they'd look at some art pieces with the strangest expressions.

"They called THIS art?"

Because all they would see is a blank canvas.

Take that. Savor it. And digest.

p.s. Fun fact -- I have a print of this Georges Seurat piece in my house. I actually never knew it was a print of a famous painting yet I've always grown up with it. Walking past it everyday. My father's favorite....And to come face to face with the real painting at the museum today.... well, I guess that's what they call luck.



p.p.s. I remember useless facts about art but forget random facts I need to know for my European Politics class. Should have switched classes when I had the chance.

rest in peace, dear

Grief is a funny thing.
Or I guess, based on its definition - it’s the exact opposite of funny.

I’ve never been able to figure it out if it’s the excess of emotion, or lack thereof.
Am I emotionally handicapped if I can’t express it?

I used to be able to.
Bawl myself to sleep.
Heaving. Crying.
Sniffling.
Redden.
Grieve.
Verb.

And now?

Did I lose my ability to grieve?
Not one tear.

How do I know if I’m upset?
I eat without flavor. Robotically.
My appetite, appeal – missing.
Between thought and a void.
A chore. Check...

Detatch

But grief can be confused with shock.

Numbness.
I.

Carry on.