Paris made us feel alive. The beauty, art, history, and constant activity. The girls and I loved to think about who walked before us in many parts of the city. Les rois, royalty, painters, sculptors, famous thinkers, scientists, and of course, famous authors. Yes Hemingway, but many others from different walks of life: Colette, Nancy Mitford, Edith Wharton, James Joyce, Camus, the list is endless, writers coming to Paris to work on their craft with the fortunate ones, succeeding.
I try not to make New Year’s resolutions as I have never been good at keeping them. I made one this year: to write, as much as possible. To take advantage of the time I had in Paris. In February my Travel/Memoir writing class began. This is what I was searching for: my writing life was born. Inspiration was all around me; women from all walks of life, from different countries with amazing stories to tell. Stories of heartache, loss, and survival. Challenges that come into our lives and force us to fight, persevere and build character. Women with feelings and thoughts that needed to be put down on paper, some as catharsis, others to share their deep emotional experiences. Our common bond was that we all wanted to write about these experiences, whether happy, sad or angry. We all wanted to work hard, get our thoughts and emotions down on paper, properly. Do it right and make our writing worthy of our experiences. I came home from my first class aching to get going. I was stirred by these lives and by our instructor, who was energetic, motivating, knowledgeable and passionate. I ached to find a rhythm, to get into a schedule and to get creating. I could sense my groove was somewhere in the room, I only had to reach out and grab it. I just had to get writing.
The key was that in Paris, I had the time. While the girls were in school, I wrote, I went to classes, I read, I discovered and I wrote some more. I got into a groove that I am trying desperately to maintain. Now back in Calgary, I'm working on finalizing some of my Paris essays and hope to soon find a home for them. I can say that my writing goal was surpassed in Paris. What an opportunity I was given. Indeed, this one can definitely be checked off the list. √.
Yes, we love Paris indeed!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Taking Stock Part III - Culture - A Paris Education
Years of history, world famous art, entertainment, architecture, literature, food, tradition, etiquette, fashion, celebrations, so much to be absorbed. Everywhere we went in Paris, we were always surrounded by new and different culture. This was certainly one of our objectives for our year in Paris, to take in as much as we can. To learn about French culture, to visit museums, and to nourish the girls' interest in all of this. And to make them want to go back and learn more. Below is a short essay I wrote after Gabrielle and I visited the Louvre. What an eye opening experience. Yes objective number 3 for our year in Paris definitely checked off our list. √
A Paris Education
“Maman, can we go to the Louvre next Wednesday?” asked my daughter Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was delighted to be in a Paris school that did not have classes on Wednesday. Her older sister was not as fortunate and had half a day of school on these days. This was our mother-daughter day to explore wonderful Paris together. But I was surprised by her Louvre request.
“What do you want to see at the Louvre, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“The statues of the Greek gods,” she answered
“Sounds good to me. We can go this Wednesday morning if you like.”
This was not a conversation I had ever expected to be having with my eight-year-old. I had brought my two daughters, from our home in Canada to Paris for a year. This was exactly one of the reasons we had come here, to offer the girls these kinds of opportunities and to make a diverse education available to them. I knew that both my girls had read the Percy Jackson series; actually they were rather obsessed with it. My eldest daughter, eleven-year-old Nathalie, had plowed through all five books, and even Gabrielle, who was young to be reading these books, was not far behind her sister. Greek gods it was.
Having a Parisian mother, with a solid accent and a strong bourgeois French nose, I had been coming to Paris my whole life with her, Madame Genevieve Cottin. When I was a child, journeys were made yearly and since then I had made frequent voyages to Paris by myself. When my father was with us in Paris we always went to the Louvre. Many childhood hours had been spent in those hallways and large exposition galleries and that certainly had been enough for me. These visits to the Louvre at a young age were always far too long and quickly became boring and painful. They did not have special activities or workshops for children then. You followed your parents around always spying the nearest bench to sit on and wait, again, uninterested. Although I regularly visited many museums, I had not been to the Louvre in years, not seeing the need for another visit. Now as a mother, after my initial surprise, I was pleased that my youngest had asked to go to the Louvre. A request I certainly could not refuse.
“Maman, we need to get a map of the museum to see exactly where the Greek god statues are. But I think they are in the Sully wing.” Gabrielle said as we entered the museum.
Her excitement was palpable. As soon as we entered the area with the Greek god statues, my lesson began.
“This is Pan, the god of Shepherds and Flocks.” Gabrielle walked right up to the sculpture in the first room.
“He is also known as Faunus in Roman mythology. You can tell it is him since he’s half man and half goat. Look at his hooves. And he has horns too. He was the son of Hermes and a nymph.”
I stood there looking at Pan for a few minutes, impressed that my young daughter could share this kind of knowledge with me. Gabrielle grabbed her camera off her belt and started snapping pictures of our first statue.
“Maman, quick, come and see this next one!” she yelled. “This one is Artemis, she’s the goddess of Hunting which is why she carries a bow and arrow.”
“What is her Roman name, Gabrielle?” I said intrigued.
“That’s easy, it’s Diana.” She said confidently, with a big smile.
I remembered bits of this from grade school, but I was surprised that Gabrielle already knew so much.
“Who is your favorite god, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“Probably Artemis, but she is a goddess, not a god. I like her because she belongs in the outdoors. Besides hunting, she is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals.”
Of course, I should have known this as Gabrielle leads the way on family hikes in the Canadian Rockies at home, and runs down to the dock every morning when we are at the lake, to start minnow catching, activities we were putting on hold this year for their Paris education.
“Did you really learn all of this from Percy Jackson?” I wanted to know.
“Yeah, Percy runs into so many different gods.”
Hermes, Athena, Apollo, Poseidon and even his wife Amphitrite… my lesson went on and on. By the time I looked at my watch again, an hour and a half had passed. Who knew the Louvre could be so captivating? And who knew that I would be thanking one of my children for my renewed interest in the Louvre?
Gabrielle was particularly taken with the Venus de Milo.
“What do you think happened to her arms, maman?”
“Well, she is a very old statue, and many of them do not get discovered or preserved entirely. I think they found her that way. Let’s go and read the plaque and find out.”
After two solid hours of looking at statues, we both reached our limit. I had learned from my own childhood experiences here to leave while we were still smiling. On the Metro ride home, as Gabrielle was enthusiastically flipping through her new workbook on Greek Mythology, I thought about our morning and what I had learned. A torch had been passed. I had been learning from my children for years, but this was a different kind of raw knowledge, book learning. Instead of a one-way flow from me to my daughter, the tides had turned and I was going to be learning from her. I must have been sitting on the Metro with a big smile on my face. I was proud. My child was like a sponge, taking in everything around her, everything she was reading and she was sharing her knowledge. As a parent you occasionally have “ah ha” moments, when you understand that some of your parenting skills are working and some of your decisions have been the right ones. Sitting on the Metro in Paris that Wednesday afternoon, I had one of those moments and I had the Greek gods to thank for this.
The Louvre also became a new museum to me. I realized why my father used to bring us here so often. It was magical to see everything through your child’s eyes. Gabrielle’s enthusiasm and happiness were contagious. I knew we would soon be back.
I’m grateful for the amazing education and opportunity we were giving our children. Taking them away from everything they knew in Calgary had been painful. There had been tears during our first two months in Paris. They deeply missed their father, their dog, their friends and their every day lives. Whenever we had a grand moment, I would remind them we could be happy here and learn so much. It was going to be a brilliant year; we just had to open ourselves up to the idea. Whether eight, eleven or forty years old were going to gain a new perspective and live new experiences. And perhaps I was the one who had the most to learn.
Paris, Jan 2011
A Paris Education
“Maman, can we go to the Louvre next Wednesday?” asked my daughter Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was delighted to be in a Paris school that did not have classes on Wednesday. Her older sister was not as fortunate and had half a day of school on these days. This was our mother-daughter day to explore wonderful Paris together. But I was surprised by her Louvre request.
“What do you want to see at the Louvre, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“The statues of the Greek gods,” she answered
“Sounds good to me. We can go this Wednesday morning if you like.”
This was not a conversation I had ever expected to be having with my eight-year-old. I had brought my two daughters, from our home in Canada to Paris for a year. This was exactly one of the reasons we had come here, to offer the girls these kinds of opportunities and to make a diverse education available to them. I knew that both my girls had read the Percy Jackson series; actually they were rather obsessed with it. My eldest daughter, eleven-year-old Nathalie, had plowed through all five books, and even Gabrielle, who was young to be reading these books, was not far behind her sister. Greek gods it was.
Having a Parisian mother, with a solid accent and a strong bourgeois French nose, I had been coming to Paris my whole life with her, Madame Genevieve Cottin. When I was a child, journeys were made yearly and since then I had made frequent voyages to Paris by myself. When my father was with us in Paris we always went to the Louvre. Many childhood hours had been spent in those hallways and large exposition galleries and that certainly had been enough for me. These visits to the Louvre at a young age were always far too long and quickly became boring and painful. They did not have special activities or workshops for children then. You followed your parents around always spying the nearest bench to sit on and wait, again, uninterested. Although I regularly visited many museums, I had not been to the Louvre in years, not seeing the need for another visit. Now as a mother, after my initial surprise, I was pleased that my youngest had asked to go to the Louvre. A request I certainly could not refuse.
“Maman, we need to get a map of the museum to see exactly where the Greek god statues are. But I think they are in the Sully wing.” Gabrielle said as we entered the museum.
Her excitement was palpable. As soon as we entered the area with the Greek god statues, my lesson began.
“This is Pan, the god of Shepherds and Flocks.” Gabrielle walked right up to the sculpture in the first room.
“He is also known as Faunus in Roman mythology. You can tell it is him since he’s half man and half goat. Look at his hooves. And he has horns too. He was the son of Hermes and a nymph.”
I stood there looking at Pan for a few minutes, impressed that my young daughter could share this kind of knowledge with me. Gabrielle grabbed her camera off her belt and started snapping pictures of our first statue.
“Maman, quick, come and see this next one!” she yelled. “This one is Artemis, she’s the goddess of Hunting which is why she carries a bow and arrow.”
“What is her Roman name, Gabrielle?” I said intrigued.
“That’s easy, it’s Diana.” She said confidently, with a big smile.
I remembered bits of this from grade school, but I was surprised that Gabrielle already knew so much.
“Who is your favorite god, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“Probably Artemis, but she is a goddess, not a god. I like her because she belongs in the outdoors. Besides hunting, she is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals.”
Of course, I should have known this as Gabrielle leads the way on family hikes in the Canadian Rockies at home, and runs down to the dock every morning when we are at the lake, to start minnow catching, activities we were putting on hold this year for their Paris education.
“Did you really learn all of this from Percy Jackson?” I wanted to know.
“Yeah, Percy runs into so many different gods.”
Hermes, Athena, Apollo, Poseidon and even his wife Amphitrite… my lesson went on and on. By the time I looked at my watch again, an hour and a half had passed. Who knew the Louvre could be so captivating? And who knew that I would be thanking one of my children for my renewed interest in the Louvre?
Gabrielle was particularly taken with the Venus de Milo.
“What do you think happened to her arms, maman?”
“Well, she is a very old statue, and many of them do not get discovered or preserved entirely. I think they found her that way. Let’s go and read the plaque and find out.”
After two solid hours of looking at statues, we both reached our limit. I had learned from my own childhood experiences here to leave while we were still smiling. On the Metro ride home, as Gabrielle was enthusiastically flipping through her new workbook on Greek Mythology, I thought about our morning and what I had learned. A torch had been passed. I had been learning from my children for years, but this was a different kind of raw knowledge, book learning. Instead of a one-way flow from me to my daughter, the tides had turned and I was going to be learning from her. I must have been sitting on the Metro with a big smile on my face. I was proud. My child was like a sponge, taking in everything around her, everything she was reading and she was sharing her knowledge. As a parent you occasionally have “ah ha” moments, when you understand that some of your parenting skills are working and some of your decisions have been the right ones. Sitting on the Metro in Paris that Wednesday afternoon, I had one of those moments and I had the Greek gods to thank for this.
The Louvre also became a new museum to me. I realized why my father used to bring us here so often. It was magical to see everything through your child’s eyes. Gabrielle’s enthusiasm and happiness were contagious. I knew we would soon be back.
I’m grateful for the amazing education and opportunity we were giving our children. Taking them away from everything they knew in Calgary had been painful. There had been tears during our first two months in Paris. They deeply missed their father, their dog, their friends and their every day lives. Whenever we had a grand moment, I would remind them we could be happy here and learn so much. It was going to be a brilliant year; we just had to open ourselves up to the idea. Whether eight, eleven or forty years old were going to gain a new perspective and live new experiences. And perhaps I was the one who had the most to learn.
Paris, Jan 2011
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