From the moment I arrived here, there was no doubt in my mind that I was meant to be here.
I was born in Paris, but I left no trace, when my parents decided to move when I was a little girl.
After 15 years, I came back to this city and walked, for the first time on my own feet.
Many bridges adorn the Seine. I am curious to know how many there are. I came here with no friends, boyfriends, money, job or social status. All I have is time, so I count the number of bridges, from right bank to left bank, and left bank to right bank. I wander aimlessly.
The sun seems like it will never set in the western sky. Young people are singing loudly, going back and forth on the bridge in the early night hours. A drunken man's wandering is interrupted by the squawk of a car horn. His faded worn out jacket is wet and gleaming. The young woman raises a high-pitched laugh when embraced by her lover, and the wind blows her skirt up like a strange billowing creature. Summer is almost here and everyone is festive.
On the Seine, there are two natural islands, floating like big ships. The Notre Dame Cathedral sits on the bigger island, Île de la Cité, boasting to take its place in the center of the world. The religious, and the non-religious are intermingled, drawn to exit through the door that leads to heaven. Île Saint-Louis is less populated, with not much traffic. It sits on a peaceful oasis of calm in the busy Paris centre, isolated like a solitary stone, forgotten by the rest of the world. I slowly started walking on the bridge, connecting to the tip of the island, as if I am affirming something.
The river wind blew my navy colored blouse, and I stopped. I thought someone had called my name.
I rest my back on the rail and look up on the sunset. Dusk, a poignant moment of magic fills the sky. High up in the air, I see a seagull straying from the crowd.
—You are like no other.
I remembered what my friend said with a slightly sharp tongue. She may have been sarcastic, but her words stayed with me, pushing me on.
As she said, I am like no other. That is why I need to take the first steps on my own.
I am here to start over and move on.
To meet someone who is like no other.
The silhouette of the city fades into nightfall. The streetlights flicker to life straining in the pale light before the soft, velvety sapphire of darkness descends.
I put my hands in my pocket, resting on the rail of the bridge. I wait for the nightfall, without blinking. Alone, I spend a short night waiting for the morning to come.
ÉCOLE DE CURIOSITÉS SPRING/SUMMER 2017