Whispers of Paris

I had heard whispers of Paris. In the crooning sultry voice of Ella Fitzgerald, on the back of magazines, attached to the cover of vogue, in poems, in books, in art. They all hummed the same tune, Paris…Paris…Paris… . The beating heart of art, culture, and life for centuries has rested in a city entirely unknown to me. The city of love. The city of Lights.  A place that has echoed in infamy for all eternity. Encased in the lure of mystery. To hear of Paris is not the same as to see Paris. To see Paris is not to feel Paris. To feel Paris is not the same as to know Paris. To know Paris, is impossible. Like a vision just out of reach, Paris can be seen, smelt, heard, and pictured in the mind of all who dream. And yet, she sits, floating in a shimmering light, just out of reach. She teases, taunts, and slips away before a firm hand can be grabbed. She sahases, knowing all eyes are on her but pretends they are not. She laughs, knowing she has the hearts of everyone around her gitty with anticipation that for a moment they might get to clutch onto her hope and experience her wonder. But when she turns looking into her eyes there lies an aura of loneliness among the intoxicating scent of cherry blossoms and baguettes. There is a depth to her that no one can understand. The sheer scope of life she has felt, consumed, witnessed. The love, pouring from windows, in times where love was not allowed. The ache of hearts breaking for generations. The dreams of everyone who sees her, their hopes, their anticipation. A gentle smile of a the most mysterious woman in the world. She has stood through wars, witnessed unbearable pain, been ravished, been restored. The incomprehensible essence of human life is aflame within her, who are we in a single lifetime, to try to understand? We whisper. We wonder. We stare. We are intoxicated by her allure. Always dreaming, but not always seeing, her beauty rests in the hands of her pain, a pain that she wears like the grandest of diamonds around her neck. Aching to see her as she stands, a feat in a single lifetime, we will never understand.

*All photos taken on Canon AE-1 35mm film*