I took the afternoon to walk around with no precise goal, or flâneuseing (the female equivalent of loitering and looking in the urban space from the verb flâneur) as they say in French, in beautiful Paris and here’s what I saw:

 

I love how Paris has a tradition of giving the architect’s name and date of construction on beautiful old buildings. J. Sottsas, 1908 for the building below:

 

Here’s another one from 1924:

 

Parisian doorways.  What can I say? Nothing, just look:

 

 

Also, I love the plaques, set in the stones, giving the history of these places.  The one below marks the liberation of the death camps from the Nazis.  It is so sad that almost no one notices, let alone reads these signs.  But they are there, silent remembrance.

 

 

Of course I love all Parisian flower shops:

 

And I love the fact that often, when there is striking sculpture on the exterior of an hotel, the sculptor will sign his name, just like the architects show above.

 

I like to see how the modern has been made to blend in with the old Parisian style of home building:

 

And I like walking by shops:

 

I like how some of the subway stops in Paris are incredibly artistic and thought provoking:

 

 

I like to find unexpected flowers growing out of forgotten places along the boulevards, especially the hollyhock, to which I am devoted.

 

I like everything about the French markets:

 

 

I like knowing that Marilyn Monroe will never really die as long as the world keeps her front of mind:

 

I like dining out (once in a while) at famous old Brasseries (The Lipp), and eating a “floating island” which resembled islands less than a hemisphere:

 

I like glancing up, now and then, at this old thing, no matter the weather:

 

 

And I like the curves on the buildings, and the roses through which you view them:

 

I like to get glaces at Berthillon:

 

And I like to greet old friends.  Sorry about your recent fire, N-D, but thank god you survived.

 

I love Paris’s sculptures; I feel I can hear them:

 

I like seeing random shots of neon colors in amongst the stone buildings:

 

And I always think of my dad whenever I see anything having to do with horses.  I like it when that happens.

 

 

And who doesn’t like the pastry shops and boulangers?  You’d have to be dead not to appreciate them!

 

And, in my wanderings, I like seeing old traditions, surviving into the present.

Oui, Paris, je t’aime!