My sister recently posted a picture of me in Paris on Facebook and it made me long for the city of light.
I am, without a doubt, romanced by Paris, the street lamps, the cafes, the red carnations in the window boxes, the Seine, the statues, the cathedrals, the gray sky.
Paris is my favorite backdrop and I'm grateful for it because somehow it is home to me. It unleashes my senses to roam free, unfettered. That's why Picasso, Miro, Hemingway and Fitzgerald all went there -- to be unleashed.
I am an incurable Francophile which is a lovely thing to be on one hand, but also a bit frustrating. There's always this needling impatience, a desperate longing to be in France, breathing in the beauty and the aroma of fresh baguettes.
As a Francophile I think I will spend my entire life trying to make peace with my longing. I cannot deny the naked truth: Paris is magic.
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