City of Dreams
Paris. It’s the penultimate city of dreams where the men are handsome and the women ‘soignée (I start wearing makeup tomorrow!) It’s the city of dreams of ordinary folk as they go about their day and the city of grand visions and dreams of kings, entrepreneurs and leaders of all kinds who manifested their desires into concrete realities.
But why I’ve often wondered, is this unique place on the masculine side of the gender division when it is so obviously a city dedicated to and formulated on beauty which in French is la beauté.
It’s also a city of dichotomies laden with too many unrealistic expectations-its a city after all and has its share of shadows as well as the exquisite light filled creations of artists, architects and sculptors of every persuasion.
Paris, like any modern European city is a beacon of light for refugees and asylum seekers who seek sanctuary like medieval pilgrims from the savagery of life in their war torn countries.
Paris was my dream for many years and now that I’m here I can see that I’ve come at the right time of my life. I can be dazzled by its sophisticated beauty and artistry yet not be dissuaded or disappointed by the more raw elements of life in a great city.