Best Proposal Ever!

I just couldn’t resist posting this proposal. It made me so happy! (And cry tears of joy).

Have a great weekend and enjoy!

There and Back with a Bang!

Sunny Central Park and Jumping Girl with Umbrella

Paris! I’ve returned!

Yes, after a month’s sojourn Stateside I’m back in the City of Light.

But just what was I doing away for so long?

Well, falling back in love with my American home, to be honest.

Late Night Mexican Street Food on the Lower East Side

The trip stirred up a lot of feelings for me. Just when I thought I was settled (and incredibly satisfied!) in Paris, New York had to go and work her old charm on me.

Oh, this. THIS.

That was my reaction as soon as I stepped back into the city. I was flooded with my overwhelming love for the place: the energy, diversity, the possibilities just teeming in the streets.

Never thought a bagpipe could be a viable “jam” instrument, but I was proven wrong in Union Square. I have video, too!

Dansons La Capucine (Or Cutest Cat Video Ever)

Greetings from New York!

Just a quick hello to say I’m having such a blast in NYC – book launches, power lunches, cookouts, cupcakes. Threw in a freelance assignment for good measure, too.

It just feels great to be here. And so the never-ending tug of sympathies continues – Paris, New York, Paris, New York.

Of course, I feel blessed to have both. On Monday I met up with someone who truly gets it. Amy Thomas (of “Paris, My Sweet” and God, I Love Paris) shares the Paris/New York love affair and it was great to see her in the Big City. We’ve always spent time together in Paree – this was our first New York date!

Tonight I’ll be going to hear her read at Posman Books in Chelsea Market along with Jeryl Brunner, author of “My City, My New York: Famous New Yorkers Share Their Favorite Places.” Doesn’t that sound like the perfect double bill? If you’re in New York, come on out! (Click here for details).

In the meantime, I leave you with this French video. For the past week I’ve been sharing a lovely Brooklyn apartment with a ginger-colored cat named Bernard. Here’s proof of a truth I’m happy to accept: the cute cat video is a worldwide phenomenon. Global understanding through adorable animal videos! Let’s do it!

Hope you’re well.

From Picturesque Streets to Pickpockets – A Long Weekend in Prague

While I love Paris, one of my favorite parts about living here is the number of possibilities for leaving. In under two hours I can find myself in a totally foreign city, an adventure in a new destination awaiting (Barcelona! Berlin! Rome! Madrid!)

That’s how last weekend I found myself in Prague, walking its cobblestone streets and confronting the most confounding language I’ve heard yet. What’s even cooler is that I got to meet my parents there, thus continuing our tradition of planning reunions in worldly cities (last year it was Istanbul).

The flight to Prague was only an hour and twenty minutes. I arrived safely after chatting with my very interesting seatmate (former nightclub promoter now dealing in “African commodities,” anyone? Hmm…there’s a lot more to that story).

I’ve gotten so used to the convenient euro zone, I had to remember to change currency. Conversion to the Czech crown took some calculation (1 euro is about 25 crowns; 1 dollar about 19). Easy enough to exchange, though, and even easier to make my way into the city. I love straightforward public transport! A bus directly in front of the terminal dropped us directly in front of a metro – it’s speedy and clean!

And when I came out from underground…well, I was kind of in a wasteland.

A Decade Hence

Today I’ve been sniffling, both from a first autumn cold and from crying on this decade anniversary, high on everyone’s mind. I knew I’d be reflective, but I didn’t think I’d be quite this emotional. I am.

Ten years ago I was a new New Yorker, having just moved back to the city of my birth a few weeks prior. On September 10 I was in the plaza of the World Trade Center watching the Trisha Brown Dance Company perform. My dream at that time was to dance and I was quickly taking advantage of all the city had to offer.

I looked up at the Twin Towers and thought I should go up to the top. I decided to save it for the next day, however, as I was returning in the morning for an audition in the area.

The next day, of course, was September 11. I never made it downtown.

Rest in Peace

Back in December, I talked about Tim, a college classmate who was fighting ALS (Lou Gherig’s Disease) and inspiring a whole awareness campaign in the process.

This morning, surrounded by family and friends, Tim passed away.

Today more than ever I am thinking about what matters. Tim was an incredible person and the loving response from community to his illness bore witness to the powerful good of the human spirit. We hear so many disheartening stories in this world, that sometimes we need reminders of that fact.

Tim and his Often Awesome Army turned his scary diagnosis and daily trials into something that transformed and touched many lives. I have been humbled and awed by their journey.

It can never be said too many times: love, kindness, compassion – this is what we need to hold onto. Every day is precious. Live each one to the full.

RIP, Tim. Holding all who loved him in the light.

The trailer for the award-winning web series that followed Tim and his wife Kaylan as they fought ALS:

French Touch NYC

Standard Hotel, NYC

Ok, so I’m back in Paris, but my mind is still Stateside. I’m trying to hang onto the creative inspiration of the writing residency as long as possible.

And New York? What can I say about New York? That city simply pulses with energy. All these years later and it still feels like the place where all is possible to me. Without even trying I seem to end up in amazing adventures. Why do I feel so open and free there?

You want more Paris, though? Well, let me tell you, there was a whole lotta French going on in the Big Apple. Not just all the French I actually heard (and I did!), but tons of cafes and patisseries, too. Here are a few shots of NYC’s nod to France. And then just some gratuitous pics of the city that have nothing to do with France…just because I like ‘em.

Endless nutella…Crepe Stand on top of the Standard Hotel

…and obligatory rooftop shot to prove I was there

Cafe Gitane in the Jane Hotel

Trout Salad

More French-inspired finds

Borderlands/Home

Taxis and books, 5th Avenue, New York

Happy Bastille Day!

It’s been nearly three weeks that I’ve been back in the States and it’s been a great time. A beautiful wedding weekend in Brooklyn; the bubbling creativity of my writing residency in Vermont; a quick trip to DC to see family.

I’m now back in New York in a large apartment in Washington Heights, overlooking the Hudson River and hanging out with wonderful friends.

Am I home?

Well, home’s a funny word, you know. Walking the streets of New York I almost feel homesick for the city – which is strange, because I’m here!

When I was surrounded by so many amazing writers in Vermont, I also felt at home. Having so many people who understand and love the same things I do was such a gift. I am still riding that wave, but also mourning. It was hard to go.

My adorable niece!

Then family! My adorable niece who grows by leaps and bounds each time I see her. My mom who gives the best hugs, my sister and brother-in-law who are such fun.

Really, I look for community wherever I go. I guess the people in each place – they are my home.

As for where I actually live, though – yes! That is also home and how happy I am to say that it’s Paris.

I have a post over on the wonderful blog Pret a Voyager about my tiny pocket on the border of the 11^th and 20^th arrondissements. Here’s a taste, then head on over to read the rest if you like what you see. Anne has been featuring a tour of Paris by each arrondissement, so you might want to check out the whole series!
* * *

 “Borderlands (A Tiny Pocket of the Twentieth)”

It seems fitting where I ended up in Paris. People become passionate about their postcode, as each arrondissement has its own personality. Without falling into the trap of postal prejudice, certain quartiers do draw different demographics.

I’m most definitely a girl of the Rive Droite, and of the East. I started in the nineteenth – which will always hold a special place in my heart – but for the past three years I’ve lived right on a border. My mail bears an address of the 11th. I literally walk across the street, though, and I’m in the 20th.

Street art, 20eme

Straddling these two neighborhoods seems almost symbolic, as I’m so accustomed to having my feet on both sides: I’m torn between France and the US. I’m a New Yorker who grew up in the South. Living in between, claiming both – these feelings are my familiar.

Of course, the 11th and the 20th are hardly opposites – nothing that dramatic. Both are far from the tourist crowds, local haunts are many. These two neighborhoods slip one into the next.

The 20th is the scruffier cousin to the 11th, more populaire, more mixed. Cheaper rents mean it’s home to many immigrant populations, as well as anyone on tighter budgets. No wonder that many artists find their ateliers here, too.

This starts the spiral of gentrification, though. Because where the artists go becomes cool, non? The twentieth holds an inherent tension, then – between a tougher edge and hip trends. I’d say it’s still a mostly positive tension, an energy that animates, but it’s always something to keep an eye on.

Still, I can’t speak for large swaths of the 20th. Most days I stay faithful to my tiny borderland – I don’t have to venture far to find interesting things.

Keep reading over on Pret a Voyager….

In Love with Istanbul

Cruising along the Bosphorous

Sometimes when I travel I feel as if I’ve just lived an entirely different life. Of course, we travel for new experiences and to immerse ourselves in other cultures.

But I mean there are a few instances where I sink into the new place so deeply it feels as if it’s become my whole reality. An inexplicable feeling grabs hold; I’m full with the sense that some part of me belongs even as everything is also foreign and unknown.

Ceiling of the Blue Mosque

On rare occasions – Paris was such a case – this feeling does presage a new life.

It’s been awhile, though, since I’ve felt thus transported.

Well, add Istanbul to the list. I can’t believe I was only there for a week; it felt like its own small lifetime. It helped, I’m sure, that 1) I was with my family so I truly was with people from my “real” life and 2) we had an extraordinary homebase that made us feel like we already had family there.

I don’t usually stay in hotels when I travel. I couchsurf, stay with friends, do apartment swaps – these feel like they put me in closer connection to the true city.

For our reunion, though, I wanted to join my family where they were comfortable and we chose a modest hotel in Sultanahmet in the Old City. We couldn’t have chosen better.

View from Hotel Peninsula

It’s no luxury experience. No. It’s a basic hotel but it has Ruhat at reception who by the end of the week was part of our clan. When I had to move for the final day, in fact (I stayed an extra day alone and the hotel was full), I still used Hotel Peninsula as my base and felt as welcomed as if I lived there. The man who served breakfast each morning literally told me I was family now. He looked as if he was going to give me a hug when I left.

And that’s sort of how the whole week felt: like an intimate, familial gathering – no matter that we were strangers.

We stayed mainly in our area, which, yes, is very touristy. We barely scratched the surface of the big, sprawling city. But when the Blue Mosque, Aya Sofya, Topkapi Palace, and the Grand Bazaar are all a stone’s throw from your hotel, it’s hard to get further out at first – so much to see on every corner!

None of those sites are what did it for me, though. (To tell the truth, I had to flee the Grand Bazaar and felt a bit let down by Topkapi). No, it was the vibe of Istanbul that drew me in. Laid-back, friendly, international, intriguing.

We hopped on a ferry to Asia one day in what has to be the easiest inter-continental commute in the world (and only 1.75 lira to boot). Cats roamed everywhere – over ancient ruins, rooftops, cobblestone streets. The Muslim call to prayer rang out 5 times daily, punctuating time with a strangely beautiful soundtrack.

Business, socializing, wooing were all conducted over tea – I can’t count the number of complimentary cups I was offered.

A grungy, cosy nightclub with a view played French, Spanish, American, Turkish, and gypsy music and a relaxed international crowd (no dress code) got down. Bustling crowds at Taksim Square bristled with energy. This might be the easiest way to say it then: Istanbul is alive.

One Year

My friend Sarah's cat. His name is Little. He's big. I did a fair bit of lounging myself since we last spoke!

Hello, friends!

I know; it’s been awhile. I stumbled back into Paris yesterday just as I left it a month ago: racing against a snowstorm. The East Coast of the US got slammed and I escaped by just a hair. I’ve come back to rain and gray skies – the normal Paris winter, if you will. A fresh, warm baguette upon arrival made me forgive the city for such a soggy welcome.

Vermont College of Fine Arts on New Year's Eve

Funny, how the markers of “home” have changed for me. Between Christmas gifts, books, and a new pair of boots (I’m a sucker for boots), I had zero room for the little treats I usually bring back from the States: mac & cheese, peanut butter, black beans, Trader Joe’s chocolate-covered pretzels. (We can talk later about my random selection, if you want).

But coming back to Paris, changing trains at Gare du Nord and being taken in by the smell of pastries (gosh, even in a dingy train station the pastries smell good!), getting off at my metro stop, Alexandre Dumas, and rolling my suitcase through the outdoor market, I marveled: wow, actually, *this* is home. I think I might just make it this stretch without my home comfort food. Seems as soon as I popped into my bakery I was reminded I’ve found comfort right here in the City of Light.

I love being Tata Sion

A month away is a lot to recap, so I won’t really do that here. Only to say it was a bit of a blur between friends, family, school. I rode Amtrak for nearly 14 hours (DC to Vermont), played in the snow, met some amazing writers, watched my niece walk and run everywhere when last I saw her she was only crawling. I stocked up on hugs (as the French kisses don’t always do it for me, you might remember), brushed up on my English (true! The longer I live in France, the worse my English gets – not so hot for a writer, eh?), and pondered, as I always do, this life between here and there.

I wish you all a Bonne Annee. I know it’s late, but I’ve stumbled into 2011 a bit like I’ve stumbled back to Paris: a little disoriented, but full of hope, happy to see what lies ahead.

On this day, one year ago, I started this blog on something of a whim. I had just come home from a reading, it was snowing outside then, too. I had no idea how many awesome folks like you I’d meet along the way, that Paris, however (im)perfect, would become ever more rich and interesting to me, the more I explored. It’s a blog birthday, but more than that – I’m raising a toast to another great year for all of us.

The wall at Mama's Restaurant in NYC

Cheers and thanks!