Tag Archives: Paris

To France: The Gift of Not Knowing

Posted on December 25, 2018 by jillbpearlman

  For Noël, the French received a gift of unknowingness. It’s a lucky gift!  Les gilets jaunes have doled out confusion to their compatriots who are singularly sure of themselves, gifted in the pur et dur, the absolute.  Their clipped … Continue reading →

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Lèche-Vitrine

Posted on August 21, 2018 by jillbpearlman

“Lèche-vitrine,” in French, literally means to lick windows, and seeing the smart and composed surfaces in Paris, who wouldn’t want to do just that? The phrase refers to window shopping, and it cleverly underlines the magnetism of the object and … Continue reading →

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Paris à Go-Go

Posted on March 16, 2018 by jillbpearlman

Oh, the charms of having grown children! The Nor’Easter knew I couldn’t miss my visit to Planet Rachel! It let me slip out under the wire and get that plane to Paris. After a spell of ersatz sleep (as much … Continue reading →

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Parisian Late-Capitalist Blues

Posted on August 5, 2017 by jillbpearlman

What an irony it would be if Paris becomes yet another generic European city where slick kids move from trendy cafe to darling bar to hip-chic restaurant. The French have always been such maniacs about preserving their rich culture and … Continue reading →

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January 20, 2017

Posted on January 27, 2017 by jillbpearlman

January 20 Something is happening back in Washington, though we are 40,000 feet above the Mediterranean. We are rising high, the scalloped edge of the Holy Land a mere hem below, through unraveling skeins of clouds, the hush unearthly. It … Continue reading →

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My Own Equators

Posted on July 31, 2016 by jillbpearlman

I like to travel south.  The further south in Europe I go, the more comfortable I feel.  I’m often following a pull, the  force of personal migration.  The compass point opens up more and more exhilaration.  It’s as if I’m … Continue reading →

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Paris tends the Flowers of Evil

Posted on July 24, 2016 by jillbpearlman

  If Paris is still a poem, it’s a 19th century poem.  It’s a poem of dualities, and that’s good and bad.   In spite of the  century and a half that has passed, Baudelaire’s masterpiece, Les Fleurs du Mal, … Continue reading →

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THE ENLIGHTENED

Posted on November 20, 2015 by jillbpearlman

After the horrific attacks in Paris last week, after attacks in Egypt, Beirut and Mali, the West went after its enemy – irrationality.  It feels like shadowboxing. Every day the complexity of reality retreated. The lust for answers, for clarity, … Continue reading →

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The Flower Brigade

Posted on August 29, 2015 by jillbpearlman

I’m remembering the profusion of an August evening in Paris’s lush Luxembourg Garden. There were fuschia blossoms on stems and stalks and shrubs, at dog, kid and adult eye level. Purple hearts woven with greenery, giant hedges of poppies and … Continue reading →

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Ink should run, not Blood

Posted on January 7, 2015 by jillbpearlman

Art is once again on the front line, in the public eye. Art is almost always on some edge, on some frontline of response to the inadequacies of humans and the world. It is usually less visible than it became … Continue reading →

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