Being A Part Of IT

T oday I got an e-mail from a very good friend in Paris. It read something like this:

“Bonjour Carra,

I am just writing to tell you that opposite my work place there is Picasso exhibition and that Friday is my day off…”
I am completely blue with jealousy. Pablo Picasso is one of my favourite painters and when I first came to Paris I rushed to the Centre G. Pompidou just to see a painting painted by Picasso. I remember walking around the modern art gallery all bored as the modern art is sometimes a little too spoiled for me, and then I felt like going to the loo. I was rushing around looking for the “WC” sign and there I was somehow heading towards the toilets and facing a Picasso painting. I was completely overwhelmed! (Still I could not believe that they put Picasso next to the loos!) Somehow I did not want to go to the bathroom then! I was standing there enjoying every brush stroke of the master for at least half an hour. Once I got my Picasso dose for the year I left the Centre G. Pompidou.

Then about six months later I was again in Paris. I discovered this Musée National Picasso Paris, and unfortunately my funds were never big enough to go there, I simply could not afford the ticket. And now I want to go to Paris so much, because of that exhibition.
I will do research and find out how long it will last and hopefully I will scrape a little over 100 euros just to go and see those wonderful works of Picasso.

I read enormous amount of books about this wonderful man. And no matter what people say, his works always go through my mind, always leaving a mark. My favourite is the blue period and that’s how I chose the picture for my article. The description for that particular one named “La vie” is:

“As in many paintings of the Blue Period, the theme of this painting is maternity, but it is complicated by allusions to love and disillusionment which make it a ‘problem’ picture. The device of continuing the allegory by the introduction of other significant pictures within the picture itself suggests already the ‘collage’ technique of the cubist period.”
From the Great Modern Masters with an introduction by Sir John Rothenstein; Time Warner Books.
Picasso was one of the first modern artists I fell in love with (art-wise) and I never stopped loving his paintings. I do love Van Gogh and his “The café at night: exterior” but when I really want a healthy madness dose with art I always go back to Picasso. Fortunately for me I was taught to love art since early age, along with many other things; and this I am grateful for to my mother.

Now back to Paris. On the 23rd of May it is going to be a three year anniversary of me leaving Lithuania; and on the 25th of May it is going to be my three year anniversary of arriving in the luxurious Western world as ‘they’ say. It was Paris, the first big Western city I had a chance to acknowledge and as much as I hate to admit it, I fell in love with that city. From then on I am only going to carry a part of that city in my heart. Because some time ago I was a part of that city too. Paris never leaves you no matter where you go.

I do admit when I arrived in Paris the first thing I saw was some old man sleeping in cardboard boxes under the bridge. It wasn’t exactly the Hemingway-ish picture I had in my mind from reading so many novels. It didn’t get better and for first few days I saw only negative sides of Paris, but it all could be down to me being tired (imagine travelling 2000km in a bus for over 48 hours!). Some man in the metro decided to brush his penis on my rear, my friend complained I did not smile enough, Arabic looking men kept chatting me up and pulling me into the cafés… But Paris at the time wasn’t the place I wanted to be in, and my dream country even though only few hours and across the channel away seemed more like in another planet.
Never mind. I visited and lived in my dream country. Now I am back in France, enjoying every single bit of being here and I MISS PARIS. I do not miss busy streets or Metro, I do not miss the rush or speed of life. I miss reading “For Whom The Bell Tolls” in the Jardin Des Tuileries for the fifth time. I miss sitting on a fountain near Châtelet watching the people go by, not feeling foreign. I miss the café in the Rue St Martin opposite the boulangerie, I miss walking from Gare St-Lazare to Châtelet with my headphones on, being a world away but still – a part of Paris.

Now I understand, it is not the place or the people, or even speed of life we remember. It’s the feeling – the feeling of being a part of something, in my case – being a part of Paris.


And this is my dessert. My all time favourite by Pablo Picasso 'Kitchen'.

This time I am not going to miss that exhibition, even though I am miles away I am going to get there, see it, enjoy it and be part of IT.