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Paris in September

Paris in September

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Paris in September? Perfect—what could be better! Only, on this recent trip I was laser-focused on our exhibition at Maison & Objet, the most intense home furnishings trade show in the world. It is Paris in miniature, a tempest in a teapot, and the eye candy is overwhelming. Just to attend this show once can be life-altering; yet we were there, exhibiting for our second time. So you see, precious little time was spent wandering the streets, chatting with the street crepe vendor, pawing over the latest fabrics from Pierre Frey and others, or walking leisurely around the fabulous antique markets and small shops throughout the most beautiful city in the world.

Window shopping at 6:00 in the morning; trouble with that is that the shops are all closed!

The trip was short and sweet, and filled with the pressures of working abroad, but as always I savored such moments as these:

  • riding through the streets going to and from working at the show, seeing people just living their lives as though unaware they existed in the true epicenter of the civilized world; the traffic wrapping the Arc de Triomphe, their taillights like a necklace of ruby beads
  • the sparkling Eiffel Tower, a beacon for the city twinkling in the night sky
  • waking up in the early morning in the apartment we leased in the 6th arrondissement; the sounds of bicycle bells and street cleaners coming up from the street below our open windows; the lovely cadences of the French language
  • the flavors of the best breads and pastries in the world
  • the latest street fashions; I never fail to marvel at how fabulous everyone always seems to look
  • the barges on the Seine, a city within the city
  • the great iconic cathedral, like a living character out of Victor Hugo

Like countless before me, I’ve forever succumbed to the charms of this incredible city. I always come home with a new appreciation for the piano music by the French modernists my son is constantly playing.

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Let's just say, Flanna didn't want me to go.

Let’s just say, Flanna didn’t want me to go.

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