snapshots from yesterday—it’s hard to believe that i’m leaving tomorrow. i’m excited to go home, but also nervous, & not just because i hate international travel.
i know i’ve changed over these last 5 months, but where? how? i’m not sure how this time will fit into my narrative. i’m not sure if home will still feel like home. i haven’t felt like not-a-stranger in so long & i’m terrified that even returning home to the people & places that shaped me won’t... won’t put me back to rights. i have a sinking suspicion that there’s part of me that won’t feel like a native anymore. & that’s terrifying. how do i live as a native when part of me isn’t from that place anymore???? what will i do with the part of me that was born & formed in Switzerland & france????
these are from the panthéon & centre pompidou, by the way. modern art is a wild time, yknow? also i’m very much going to miss @_hminor_ & that’s a Fact.
there’s an odd kind of pain to be found in individuality.
the other night, when i was taking this photo, i found myself increasing frustrated with the fact that not a single photo i took even began to encompass what i was actually seeing. the light, the detail, the tenderness. blue hour is a delicate time & nothing i did, no matter where i tapped on the screen, could properly adjust to the light.
i have less than two weeks before i’m home, Lord willing—twelve days, to be exact. this time is my blue hour—right before the dawn or setting of one period, but without having let go of the other.
i tried to write this last night, but i was too angry about the modern relativity of truth and the darkness of the dark ages. but i spent much of today making and sharing soup, resting back into this week of Advent, the week of peace. the waiting is extra special this year: i come home as the Light is born.
i guess what i’m saying is i’m already starting to feel the burden of the details that await me on the other side of the blue & my own inability to adjust to them all. my camera can’t focus in on the details of the moon. & nobody else can see them because they’re neither here nor me.
look at how beautiful it is anyway.
#paris #authentic #allwillbewell
[SWIPE] this photo was taken disturbingly late, perhaps—& if you swipe (!!), you’ll see a snippet of how we spent our evening: either listening to the Lumineers or singing (often the Lumineers). it’s odd being away from home for Thanksgiving and other holiday milestones (swipe to the end to see the Christmas tree my family picked out today!) but i’m very thankful to have met this gal—we made a thanksgiving meal today, minus the turkey and plus chicken & that eases the ache.
maybe that’s one of the things you don’t realize about studying abroad or living far from family—it’s not just the bigger events that you miss, but the little things too. & if you don’t find some family away from home—well, i find that it’s hard to rail against the dying day by yourself.
#reharmonizedlumineers
winter & i are settling into the bones of Paris & it is lovely. the weather has turned & yesterday the rain was mixed with snow. i’ve finished another scarf, this one a bright color that looks orange in some lights and pink in others. it’s another flame to carry, though i haven’t worried about being warm in a while... and though my feet are cold right now.
perhaps i could learn to knit socks. there is something lovely about making things yourself; they take on an identity of place and time and effort.
while i was finishing that scarf last night, i rewatched pride and prejudice (2005), but in french. it’s a beautiful film & i love it, but the especially cool thing this time was to (1) understand the rapid french they spoke & (2) be able to note the archaic words they used (which are now only used in v formal situations) & understand why they were used.
french is settling into my bones, i think. i don’t know what fluency is but my head doesn’t hurt anymore.
@gfu_abroad #paris #livingauthentically
