I Live in Paris
Saturday August 16th, 2008
Send help in way of a Gym membership and some Grammar lessons!
So Europe has had the following impacts on Joseph Fuda. First of all, I love it here and would love to never leave and I want to hug every passing building facade as I walk past it. Second of all France and turned me into a tub of fat lard. The cheese is amazing here, the bread is amazing here, the chocolate is amazing, but what isn't amazing is my fat ass flopping up the steps to Montmartre. Since next I am going to be living in Italy for a month, I am doomed to come back the fat North American that I am at heart.
Another thing that my friends have noticed is that if my grammar and spelling in these blogs were plotted on a linear graph with X being "Time in Europe" and Y being "Writing Proficiency" and you used a Cos/Tan curve as a parallel comparison then I would be much too stupid to plot such a graph. I had my vocabulary blasted by the Irish, and now the French are pulling their Citrine's around to finish me off. I have had to speak a dumbed down English since I arrived and now I realized that I am hilariously losing my English. I would love to say it’s being replaced by French, but I think the reality is that it's probably being replaced with cheese and baguettes.
In other blog news, Picarde is incredible! The 60s Paris you see in old Goddard movies is alive in well, and it's called the North of France. No one raves about the North of France as they should. The lovely little towns, and the amazing Gothic cathedrals rival the charm that I have felt in Paris. The cathedral I went to today was amazing. There was also the shell of a 10th century Abbey that was destroyed in the 18th century which is a huge monument to the influence this region once had in France.
I will insert the name of the cathedral I went to when I find the pamphlet, but it has all sorts of original paintings by Reuben, an incredible vaulted gothic ceiling and stained glass that is the equal of any I have ever seen. It was partially destroyed in the first World War which hit the North of France particularly bad since it is so close to Germany. If you drive around you can see artillery holes in many of the walls around town where they decided shooting at an old brick wall fulfilled the day’s work requirement of being a soldier - or its where many people were put to death. I'm not really clear on the particulars.
My friend Ed and his family have put me up for the weekend and it has been incredible. They are such a close, warm, loving family that I might return all the silver wear I pocketed during last night’s incredible dinner. Even their dog sounds French to me when it barks
Friday August 15th, 2008
Enjoying a little bit of "Joie de Livres" Not every day is a crazy orgie in Paris. Well, not today at least. Today; I finished my book, "Black Sheep" by Balzac, I did laundry, and spent 4 fun hours getting my phone unlocked. I liked the Balzac book very much for those who care but I probably would not recommend it to anyone. I like to recommend books that change peoples outlook on things, but this book (which takes place in Paris in the 17th century) didn't really change much in ways of outlook - but I did learn a lot about how much money you could make off mortgaging property or how much money a soldier of Napoleon made 200 years ago.
So, what am I supposed to write for today? Well - for starters if you unblock a phone so it can be used on multiple networks it will erase all your contacts, all your photos and all your memories of Ireland. It might even make you shed a single tear. It is very cheap to unlock a phone in Paris and for some reason they even seem to have a street dedicated to it.
Last night I saw a man get robbed at an ATM - the robber just grabbed the money as it came out - and then I watched as police promptly apprehended the culprit. The would be victim, who had a cane, screamed "THIEF" and a few bouncer looking dudes got out of a beat up volkswagon and handcuffed the guy. In a bizzare twist, I went to see my friend at the Veghan restaurant and the man who was robbed had just eaten there and went to the cash machine to pay his meal. To put the probabilities here in perspective; these two things happened about two blocks apart and there are maybe 200 restaurants every 20 feet in Paris.
In the end I was able to eat his meal for free because he was going to the police station and couldn't finish his dessert. I love Paris.
I have also modified my blog so the last month and a half doesn't all load in one shot; you can see them by viewing archive links at the bottom. This means that whoever the hell is reading this thing doesn't have to wait 4 hours for the entire thing to load, and my bandwidth doesn't get chewed up whenever someone goes to my blog to steal one of my photos for their computer desktop.
Tomorrow I am going to the North of France to stay with my friend Ed's family. I have read wonderful things about the North of France and by "Read" I mean "Heard" and by "Heard" I mean that I have never heard a single thing said ever about the North of France.
Thursday August 14th, 2008
Guy Sleeping, Rive Droite, Paris
If you would like to see Quasimodo, for 30 Euros I can cripple this little boy. AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICK!!!!
To start off, Happy Birthday Nick Gryciuk. You have been my friend since I was 4 and now you are 27 and I tried calling you 5 times and Connie kept hanging up on me. This communication thing from abroad sucks.
Ahh Paris. Where do I begin? I woke up and ate a baguette with Nutella and read half of "Black sheep" by Balzac. It's the story of two brothers who are competing for their mothers love. One is a self centered soldier, the other a generous and determined artist - who is hilariously named Joseph. There is a line from that book I particularly like when it describes the self centered brother; "The universe began at the top of his head and ended at his feet". Please for the love of God don't draw any comparisons between the description of the novel and my personal life unless you want my brother to burn all my belongings back home.
Today I decided that I should probably start shooting more Parisian people. Shooting meaning photograph. The buildings will always be here, but the population of Paris is so dynamic and so full of tourists that it’s quite likely I could go through the whole day and not photograph a single Parisian. Also, there are a lot of interesting faces around.
Artist's Spillings, Rive Droite, Paris
I went to the Museum Orlee and quickly realized that if I was going to be walking around for 10 hours I probably should have eaten more than a fistful of wheat with a fake chocolate spread.
Cool Art, Musee d'Orsay, Paris
The museum is the least impressive one I have seen but it is the first to actually have photographs included. They have various hundred year old daguerreotypes from famous artists. In my opinion they are more accomplishments of chemistry than of composition - but it's sort of progress in my favour. The most impressive thing for me was the building that this museum was in. They have converted a beautiful Art Nouveau train station into a museum - which is good when you are showing things like Rodin's "Gates of Hell" because that sucker is BIG.
Lost girl, St. Germain, Paris
Low on blood sugar and tired of seeing paintings of what the French countryside would look like to someone with severe cataracts; I decided I would try and book my trip to Berlin for later this week. If anyone wants to go to Berlin from Paris, there are no Ryanair flights and trains are about $200 Euros return. To put this in perspective, I could fly to Prague, Stockholm, Dublin AND London for less than it costs to train it to Berlin. It's not that far people, I could DRIVE if I wasn't afraid I would end up circling the Arc de Triomphe for the rest of my life.
Vending Machine selling coins with the Pope's Head, Notre Dame, Paris
While mulling what to do with the next two days of my life I went by Notre Dame Cathedral. It's been 7 years since I have been here and they seem to have replaced the entire cathedral with a gift shop. There are vending machines everywhere and I was half expecting the statue of Joan of Arc to be one of those people with body paint who move when you throw them a coin.
My religious experience at Notre Dame made me realize I might like to leave Paris for a few days. Paris is great but all the people here are starting to get to me. I would rather some eccentric country folk spiting wine at me then one more gold toothed gypsy telling me I'm beautiful and then asking for money for the compliment.
Old People Fighting in Black and White, Opera, Paris
I gave myself a little challenge for my photo project for today and went around and tried to shoot candid photos of people with my 50mm with my camera on my hip. The lens is more like an 80mm on my digital and slow as hell to focus - so it was quite the learning experience. I took a BUNCH of photos, but for some reason I only put a cute girl and some old dudes on my blog. They all look nice in black and white and they have all the makings of some very terribly photo exposition at a fusion Thai restaurant somewhere in Toronto.
Old Man in Black and white, Opera, Paris
Wednesday August 13th, 2008
Hitler, Catacombs, Paris
I Found the Skull of Hitler!
I finally made it to the Catacombs. This was my FOURTH try and I got there good and early and waited in line for the chance to see a bunch of dead people deep underground. I shaved so I could convince them I was a youth and get in cheaper and then walked the seemingly endless stairs down to the bottom.
The catacombs are at first very creepy because you walk for about 20 min waiting to see some skulls and then it's bone city from there on in. My favorite way of describing the Catacombs is like you have gone to a shopping mall, but instead of stores they have bones, and instead of shoppers you have dead people, and instead of a shopping mall it's a catacomb. Maybe just use the shopping mall as a simile for how BIG the catacombs are.
Bunch of Bones, Catacombs, Paris
You are not supposed to use flash here but I say anyone who dug up a bunch of bodies and put them in all sorts of designs probably didn't have a whole lot of respect for these people. Also, they didn't seem to mind.
The reason these catacombs exist is because of health reasons. There were so many bodies in Paris during the 16th century that the dead were killing the living. They dug up a lot of cemetaries - throwing everyone into piles, including some notable aristocrats, artists and people killed in the blood bath that was the French revolution.
Catacombs, Paris
At night, horse drawn carts with black cloths covering them went through Paris while priests rode along making sure the bodies were respectfully unloaded with shovels and pitchforks.
Catacombs, Paris
The ossuary, is an abandoned quarry that the French used for materials to build much of Paris. The quarry dates from Roman times to the 19th century and mixes in with the metro tunnels, the sewer lines, and the French homes of the Ninja Turtles
Future skull of Eugene Levi, Catacombs, Paris
While walking around you get kind of bored looking at skulls and femurs so you start to give them names. I even found one with a little moustache that must have been Hitler. I also found one with eyebrows that looked like Eugene Levi. You must know that I FOUND these skulls like that and to forget that I have a complete moustache kit that I brought with me from Canada.
Never would I disrespect people by putting on my glasses or sticking fake hair to them. These are ACTUAL people. The nerve of people judging me. On the way out there is a nice little collection of skulls confiscated by people who tried stealing them but were caught by the guards who inspect all bags on the way out. Photos of dead people are enough for me, and I probably have about a gram of bone in my system from walking around there with my camera for two hours.
Skulls people tried to steal, Catacombs, Paris
Tuesday August 12th, 2008
French Doggie, Montmatre, Paris
I need a T-shirt that says, "A man grabbed my hand in a theatre because I was playing with a plastic bottle and held on for close to 30 seconds".
I love surprises and today my good friend from Toronto, Lynsie, was in Paris for the day. Surprise! She has been doing the non showering backpacking thing across Europe and stopped by Paris on her way to Barcelona. She is a very talented photographer herself and one of the first people to point out when my photos suck or I am being arrogant.
German Tourist, Montmatre, Paris
We went for breakfast near Abbesses subway stop and it took about 2 1/2 hours to get a sandwich with ham and cheese. I am beginning to see a pattern of overworked waitresses in many of the Parisian Cafes who have an entire restaurant worth of patrons to look after. This seems somewhat criminal considering that people here are encouraged not to tip and they are mostly cute girls who justly should have some rich American throwing money at them while they spread Nutella on day old Crepes in their Brazilian cut underwear. With their coquette hair falling down their honeydew necks and tiny blonde hairs standing on end when you gently run the knuckle of your hand down skin that has a faint smell of coffee and then they look you in the eye and mutter something in French but you didn't understand them because in your mind you were spinning underneath the Eiffel Tower with them to Le Vie En Rose and they whisper in your ear with a hot breath "J'ai taime"...wait where was I?
Turtle, Luxemberg Garden, Paris
Lynsie and I then went to Luxemberg garden where she lay down beside the fountain and I got really much too excited over some brass sea turtles. For anyone who doesn't know I love turtles. I love turtles a lot. Turtles and photographers have a lot in common because if they ever lost what was on their backs they would look weird and naked.
Horse Mermaid Things, Luxemberg Garden, Paris
Luxemberg Gardens is really nice and has lots of statues of Queens and kings who make it look like Medusa went a little nuts here before going for some baguettes in Bastille.
Lynsie had the great idea of catching a film in one of the little art house theatres in Paris. I loved the idea but doubted there would be anything like that left in Paris. I was WRONG! An entire street of them still exist playing new wave films from the 60s and 70s in incredibly cute art deco/nouveau theatres. We watched "La Femme d'à côté" which is a story of affairs and marriages set in the early 80s. We watched it Sans subtitles and in its original French. Cinema in French is still pretty easy to follow if the director is of the caliber to be able to tell a story as much with images as with the dialog.
Lynsie Roberts, Luxemburg Gardens, Paris
Lynsie left early for a train to Barcelona that somehow was going to take her 24 hours - I was told it’s a 4 hour drive by car. I went home and to bed early because if I was going to ever see the catacombs I need to wake up early before the line-ups.
Some Cathedral off Rue St. Michael, Paris
Monday August 11th, 2008
Sacre Coeur taken from Centre Pompidou
Excuse me are you done with your garbage? Thank you, I would like to turn it into modern art.
I tried to wake up early this morning but my alarm did not go off so I figured it would have missed my chance at visiting the catacombs. I consoled myself by reading Balzac in a vegan restaurant that I am now a frequent visitor of. I overheard some Polish girls talking about how they were going to find the cafe that was used in the film Amelie and I jumped at the chance of finally finding it - last time I was here I walked for hours and asked dozens of people and none of them had any idea what I was talking about.
The French Tower, taken from Centre Pompidou, Paris
The cafe looks pretty much the same on the inside as in the movie without the tobacco counter and sadly without Audrey Tatou. The waitresses really love when you talk about the film and love even more when you take lots of photos without buying anything. If you go there, make sure to ask them to use their phone after you have used the bathroom and asked for a free glass of water.
Cafe used in the film Amelie, Paris
Afterwards I went to the Centre Pompidou for Modern art. It’s a very impressive factory looking building with an impressive collection of both art and garbage.
Staff - Centre Pompidou, Paris
The art found here ranges from Dali; to Man Ray to some people that think the bigger something is the more likelihood it will get hung in a centre for modern art. Being a modern artist myself, and knowing full well a photograph is never going to make it into the Louvre in my lifetime I indulged myself in a few weird as fuck art films and photographed some of the weird as fuck people who walked around.
Random Guy - Centre Pompidou, Paris
The view from the centre is amazing and it’s totally free if you are willing to pay the 12 Euro entrance fee. Afterwards I walked along the river to the tower where the French Revolution ended or started and wondered whose idea it was to mark the mass destruction of art and lives with a large brass column in what appears to be a pretty boring part of Paris.
View from Centre Pompidou, Paris
Sunday August 10th, 2008
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Joe Food, Louvre (sort of), Paris
Wishes are something you MAKE come true!
Meghan had to leave to start her new job in Galway today so I happily woke up at 5:30am to happily walk down the mountain and happily take the subway to the happy happy bus to see her off. It was sad to see Meghan leave, but at least it was 6am and I was half awake with a full-blown allergic rash all over my face.
I was going to see the catacombs today, but the line-up was such that by the time I got inside I would be a likely candidate for one of its millions of deceased residents. I opted instead for the Louvre. Everyone says you can't do the Louvre in one day, that it would take at least a week to see everything. This is my second time there and I suggest that you Do NOT see everything in the Louvre.
If you want to save time, see a few statues missing limbs and admire the way they make stone look like cloth, see a couple others and compare the perfect chiseled chest to your also perfect physique and then BAM - you're done with statues.
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Guy with a perm, Louvre, Paris
Then go to Egypt and look at a mummy and some hieroglyphics. Then BAM, Statues and Egypt, that's like two weeks of Louvre right there in 20 minutes. Then go to the paintings and look at one with John the Baptist's severed head, another with St. Anthony with arrows in him, another with the Virgin Mary and Jesus and you have just seen 4000 paintings in the Louvre collection.
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Detail of Painting in Louvre, Paris
Of course I am an asshole, and each piece of art is amazing and jaw dropping but being an artist in a place where there are incredible works of art that were completely unknown to me - I felt a little bit self conscious to get my artistic shit together and fast!
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Jim Morrison's Soul in a Cat
, Pere Lachaise, Paris
Louvre took me four hours, then I went to Pere Lachaise to look at the hole in the ground that is Jim Morrison's grave.
The fun thing about Pere Lachaise are the cats. There are a bunch of cats that seem to live off either death or tourists - I'm not sure which. My favorite moment of the day was when a group of tourists staring at Jim Morrison's grave were all suddenly and happily distracted by a cat jumping on a nearby grave that began to clean itself. The sad little cameras that were reluctantly recording the toilet that is Jim Morrison's final resting place came to life clicking away and terrifying the animal to an early death.
Just to go on a short rant here, I still don't understand why Jim's grave is still so popularly destructive. It is so popular that they say most of the vandalism - and it looks like a bomb went off in this beautiful cemetery - is because of old Jimmy. People seem to think that smoking a J on Jimmy's grave and then stealing the head of Balzac are something that embodies his spirit. To them I say this. Have you ever HEARD the Soft Parade? Have you ever LISTENED to "Love Street"? The album is a piece of shit Lyrically. The man clearly wasn't a total genius and kicking in Oscar Wilde's headstone won’t bring back the man who brilliantly pulled his wang out during a Miami show and tried to defend himself in court by saying he was the modern Dionysius.
I then hung around on Sacre Coeur with some Canadians I overheard, one from Scarborough, the other Mississauga. I took a few shots of the one girl from Scarborough, who when she found out my apartment was across the street begged me to use my bathroom. So if anyone sees the photo of the cute Spanish girl and thinks I slept with her I didn't. I'm in Paris but I'm not a cheating whore! - and sadly neither was she.
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Miss Augulera
, Paris
Afterwards I needed something full of sugar, so I went by a vegetarian restaurant and ate an apple crumble that was likely named that not for the way it was prepared but for the chef’s failure at making it an edible apple pastry. The waitress was very sweet and when I asked what she was reading she insisted that I read some of it and tell her what I thought of it.
It was a collection of short stories by a Japanese author. I read two of the stories and they were more character sketches than narratives which didn't really satisfy the narrative reader but in 20 pages or less brought to life the feelings and psychology of a character in a seemingly mundane episode of their life.
One story that stuck with me especially is one called "The birthday wish" Where a girl is granted a wish by her elderly boss on her birthday. The story is told past tense as she retells the events to her friend. Her friend pressures her to tell her and the reader what the wish was and if it came true. Her response was that she can't tell her the wish, and it indeed did come true because she was happy with her life. Her friend unsatisfied with the answer came back complaining that she wanted one of her wishes to come true. To this her friend responded, wishes are something that you make come true - essentially calling her friend lazy for sitting around waiting for things to happen.