Alors. So where are we with this experience?
Well, I am home after a long mid-afternoon walk. I walked from my place to the American Church, tout d'abord. I had a little incident there. I go to the American Church all the time for the past seven years and sometimes I have even advertised with them and so today I went to check on my ad, which had expired, and then I needed to use the loo pretty urgently.
So I asked the front desk's permission, not thinking this would be a problem. Normally, over the past seven years or so, this has not been a problem. But there was a new girl there, an Asian girl, and she told me "sorry, I can't let you use the bathroom. It is not for the public."
Now, with all due respect I understand this girl was just doing her job. But for me, I was like, "I'm sorry, I have an emergency and this is a church. This is the American Church and I am American and I need to pee. So what do you mean by 'no'? Is this a new policy?" I just couldn't believe it.
She mumbled something incomprehensible but either I wasn't hearing her or one of us was mistaken about the urgency of the thing. Either she was mistaken by telling me that I could not use the restroom or I was mistaken for having to pee when I was not chez moi. Either way, PROBLEM!!!
So while she is talking to me about all the reasons I can't relieve myself, I said, "Look, I don't think you understand. I'm going to use the restroom, d'accord? And you can call security or whatever it is you need to do, ok? Voilà!" And I wheeled around and charged down the steps to the restroom to relieve myself (I kid you not), fully expecting the National Police of the French Republic as well as the Gendarmerie to barge in and pluck me off the toilet seat and throw me into prison for "pissing without permission" or something equally novel. (And excuse me if I am a little bit indelicate, but I mean… how is this even possible??).
Luckily for me, the police did not arrive in time.I was quick about the whole maneuver, though it was enough time to notice that my little monthly friend had arrived on schedule. And by the time went back up, the Asian girl was on the phone, frantically talking to god only knows who. I made a quick exit to the Petit Palais to view the permanent collection for the 100th time.
Speaking of my little monthly friend. She showed up on cue, maybe a few hours tardy this month, like she always does, with a light, ethereal stain. That's all she does on day one. It is as if she is saying, "mommy, I'm here. Brace yourself for the tornado. Get all you need and hold fast." Now. If I choose to ignore her warning, it's fine. But it is at my own risk. Cause, she is a tornado! I have learned to give her her due, to let her be boss cause I have no choice. NONE. It's so funny because I only just now decided that she was my "little friend." Before, she was my "cauchmar" or "nightmare" in English. In the last year or so, I have come to dread her arrival. She is so demanding, and loud and heavy and omg, unmanageable. That for me, she is nothing but a big, fat, nightmare that I dread and hate.
But as I was walking through Paris today, thinking of all the indignities I have weathered over the years, including the most recent of being told I could not use the restroom at a church for the love of God (where by the way I have spent money advertising!), I realized that her monthly appearance and arrival is something to be proud of. She is emblematic of something so important for me to remember at this time in my life. She is a sign of my good health, first of all. And what a precious, precious gift that is. Something I must never, ever take for granted, no matter how long I shall live. She is also a sign of resilience. My Resilience. My staying power. No matter what. There, but for the grace of God I go like so many other women who struggle in this world who struggle to survive and to LAST, every single day of their lives, in this mean world. Women who are faced each day with scorn, and mockery and disdain and exclusion and people sniffing at them as if they are garbage and so much hardship and difficulty, and still they PERSIST. They don't die. They don't shrivel into a corner and disappear. They do what they have to do. Day in and Day out.
This is what my little friend is. I know so many people who are younger than I am (or so they have told me) and they don't even get their little friend. She has long since left. And mine will leave one day too. I know. But for now, she is not ready to go. And she is demanding. And I hate the way she sometimes just EXPLODES and if I am not careful, leave tracks of her existence on my clothes even if I am in public! It's fucking horrendous what she does to me. And she is hard to cope with. But. She is still here. And she is beautiful, not a nightmare as I have said in the past. As recently as yesterday. She is telling me something very important about myself that I must heed: you are still young! You are healthy! You are resilient! You are WOMAN hear you roar. And I am not done with you quite yet….all is possible…. I think I will do a painting in her honor pretty soon. :)
So, I left the American Church, feeling strong and resilient and able to face all the challenges and difficulties being thrown at me from every direction. When I exited the church, I left the little Asian girl was on the phone calling god knows who. She seemed frantic. I walked myself to the Petit Palais to see the permanent exhibit. There, I took a lot of pictures of paintings and sculptures which you can see on my Instagram page.
Then, I took a walk along Quai Voltaire and checked out all the art galleries. I probably had about a two-hour stroll all in all. And, OMG! I could not believe the art. When I grow up, win lotto or find a rich benefactor, I want to move to Quai Voltaire and have my won art gallery on the street level below my apartment. It was so incredible. And all the gallery patrons were so polite and welcoming: What a contrast to the experience I had had at Galerie Castiglione and the other one the other day. People actually buzzed me in to the galerie and in some cases spent a lot of time talking to me about the art.
I learned so much. Like, in one of the galleries, I learned that I want my art to be properly framed. I especially liked the framings on the exhibits at Bailly Gallery. I am now convinced that the frame does a lot for the art and is hugely important in how it is viewed commercially. I can see that have put a lot of work and money into their frames and it does make a huge difference. I also stopped in at a few others including I-Gallery, Galerie Berés, and Galerie Antoine Laurentin where an Iranian artist's works were on display. I came home with a truckload of brochures.
After that, I came home and had a glass of Merlot with dried sausage.
No comments:
Post a Comment