Autumn has finally begun to make itself felt, and not a moment too soon – the cloying, oppressive and unrelenting heat had worn me down to a mere splinter, I’d hardly slept in a week and I was sick of it all. But then it RAINED. And I danced a jig and breathed in deeply, it is wonderful how refreshing a bit of crispness in the air can be. Of course everyone else puts their pouts on with their coats. Still, I feel MUCH better.
The rest of the week was spent painting, more or less (with occasional rain dances) – it’s been very fun to get back to work after our little holiday down south.
We were at some point taken to a cool little bar in the 10th – the place had white neon lights, pressed metal ceilings and a scuffed red bar from the 1950s. Looking out the window I saw one of the scenes I’d painted. It was a very pleasant surprise to see again this place that I thought I’d never be able to find again – it felt like Paris got a little smaller and more intimate.
Another night, a dinner out, a cute little restaurant of chipped red walls and overgrown potplants; the menu a blackboard propped on the chair next to us; at the end of the tiny space a man played guitar and sung the most beautiful songs in an exotic African tongue. His smile gleamed.
Another night talking to a guy from Shanghai, unintentionally giving the impression that Australia is the most expensive place on Earth but not knowing how to put it any other way. Feeling good that I can finally have a faltering conversation without flicking through the dictionary.