Walking Briskly Against Time |
And Settling Neatly Beside Bikes |
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A smoke filled resonance written is black, grey and red clicks delicately across the stone paths and brick walls.
Smell of fresh bread intermingles with perfume
and clings to the sides of tall buildings.
A few days of sun and many with clouds
lighting the streets of people walking.
Through the twist and turns of Rue
a lovely church suddenly comes to life.
It sits pointing a cross to God
drawing a wandering worshiper.
They come to hear, see and touch.
The stone stays permanent
amidst an ever moving city
The city does not stop
regardless of the cold.
This is Lille France.
My humble adventure starts with a 36 hour day trying desperately to save energy for my etudes.
Once the speedy plane landed I was thrown into a world of mystery,
adventure and the unknown. Language is a wondrous and pleasant idea. It
creates homeliness and static emotion. Without the soft blanket of
language we are trapped vocally by the lack of knowledge. I sit, listen,
wander and try to speak but nothing exits. There is little I can do
immediately but start to learn and connect. The only kindred love is
that of other friends and the anonymous English speaking chap. Language
is powerful.
Architecture
on the other hand is ever pronouncing and understandable. It is stable.
It sings my language and speaks softly and friendly. I bask in the
glory of buildings; I photograph every moment. They are lively and
beautiful. With the duality of life, what is obtuse? I was floating
without mind and body. It is a new world. Scale is tiny and comforting.
You bump people, they bump you back. You look at a crowd, they look
back. The streets are filled with tiny cars. The sidewalks are short and
angled. Lille is obtuse for beauty and proportions. It sits nicely in
my heart though. I do enjoy the unique.
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