My alarm didn't ring yesterday; and it didn't make a sound this morning either. So, I woke but fell back to sleep.
The phone rang at 10:00 AM. It was Janet. We met at noon and met at the Palais de Luxemburg for an exposition of paintings by Marc Chagall. I was surprised to see all the different mediums he used. There were magnificent drawings in pen and ink. Some of these seemed almost etching like. He used watercolor and gouache, there was a series of dry point prints, graphite drawings, and of course his oils. It was really wonderful to see this retrospective of more than 6 rooms and get a greater sense of who and what this artist did.
Janet's her husband, David, and I were joined by a young woman named Sasha, who had gone to school with their son at Goucher College in Maryland. Sasha was delightfully stylish, in addition to being intelligent and in full command of the French language.
We all went to lunch at a swank Cafe des Editors, and they was a woman squeezed in beside us that had a manuscript she was editing. Honestly, we were all squeezed in like sardines, the French way. Where they put the fat, ?????
I had scallops (ST. JACQUES) in honor of my upcoming walk. They were laying on a bed of fluffy, light as air, celery root puree, and covered with a foam of something. The menu said "emulsion of lard fume". I didn't taste bacon or smoke, and it was the first foam I've seen or eaten in person in person. (You know you see it on the Food Channel from time to time.)
We exited the cafe and said our goodbyes to Sasha. There in from of the cafe was a large tree in bloom, with books hanging in it. I felt a little sorry for them hanging out in the rain.
David wanted to walk, and went his way. Janet was going to go back to her apartment, but decided to walk with me for a while. We headed in the direction of the Seine.
Soon after turning on to Rue des Ecoles, we happemed upon an art supply store. I'd been to Equisse my second dau here, but the windows were so wonderful, and when I looked inside everthing was magnificent to see, so in we went.
Charvin was the brand. Located at 57 quai des Augustins. Of course I didn't need anything, but I bought a palette knife, a tube of oil color - I told Janet to pick one, a hard bound sketchbook - something I wouldn't take because it's heavy, and of all things, a painters smock that was designed for, or after, Corot's. Jean-Phillip was very nice. He modeled the smock and let me take lots of photos of the boutique.
Back on the street, Quasimoto's bells were calling the faithful and the tourists to mass. I went, and Janet went home. I was happy to hear the organ, and made a couple quick sketches in my book.
I walked home in the rain, happy. My day had been filled with great company and lovely surprises. Paris, it's pretty magical.