Week one. Every morning I wake in a dream state. Yet this is my life. Paris is my reality. Surrounded by sights and sounds, all engaging and mysterious. My eyes are open wide in observation of this new place, it’s spaces and people. Equally, my mouth is shut, afraid to utter a word to reveal my foreigner status. For the moment I feel like a silent observer, able to see but unable to be seen. Hence I have reverted to the mentality of a small child who looks at the world eagerly yet does not choose to participate. Yet. I take my time to become acquainted with the neighborhood. I often find myself lost amidst the tangled streets of the Marais, searching for a point of reference. None is found. I consult a map and find my way, stopping at a cafe to indulge in the Parisian culture, to continue my observations, to immerse myself further in the dream.
