A French cafe in Paris near Montmarte. A red door, a checked curtain, and "cafe" written in typical French script. In the distant background Edith Piaf is singing… la vie en rose.
Outside a shop in Paris a stand sells vintage reproduction posters: Place Clichy, Le Petit Chat, Cacao, Chocolat, and The Can-Can dancer's leg up high. The images of France play in my daydreams. They are sepia songs, with dancing reds, with flashes of flea markets…but mostly I daydream of my family as children….far far away from this moment and the song is a safe lullabye… soon they will be here older and full of stories of their days I have missed. It will bring me to a new beginning.
Chelsea as a baby soaking up the sun with a doll in hand.
Sacha dancing when he was eight on stage.
Sitting in my childhood bedroom, looking out at the rice fields as they flood and take root– I am also sitting with my daydreams of life in France. Have you ever noticed that when something profound happens, when the everyday scenery changes one's thought dive into the past finding security? My thoughts dive deep and surface with such.
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