We were in Montmartre again; there is a spirit there and it was if we were touched with life again. There, the gypsies were on the steps of Sacré Coeur as the temperature warmed up the day. We headed up to the top with our two little chihuahuas. Climbing with them we seemed to be a prominent feature following them up the steps. We were on everyone’s lips and they were adored by everyone.
We were finally back in Paris. It was summer. Love – amour – was our most popular subject for us. And Jim, my musician; where I await to visualise his lyrics through songs. It is there, he sometimes sketches out his lyrics.
Love anyways, is not his most popular subject on his mind, however. Jim writes about what he sees in Montmartre. I watch him watching the people warming up around him; he is my young Englishman who’s heart is just waiting to be inspired.
That day we did as we often did; people-watched from the outdoor tables of the café; watching street artist sketch portraits. Dozens of them. One artist stopped at our table and began cutting out our Silhouette on paper. Then charged us five euros!
First he picked up a French newspaper from the lot to read. And consequently, I still cannot speak or read a word of French even though he has sought out to teach me.
On that warm afternoon; it seemed to be directed as was per at love. We watched a young couple, sit down in front of us at this café. They held hands across the table. They proceeded to tell each other, “Je t’aime” with sappy looks in their wide eyes. We resisted the urge to gulp down our wine and instead Jim brought out his notebook and a pencil.
He quickly sketched the scene before him, then began writing madly. He tore the picture out of the book and flipped it over, putting it down on the table. He didn’t care; he scribbled on the back of it in loose, scrawling handwriting, much too eloquent to be understood by anyone but himself.
By the end of it, his genius was satisfied I think in his judgement of spirit, his motives, and, glancing at them again, was satisfied that their love was real. It had to be.
All I know is that we were in Paris again, and the in summer. and I know he was inspired once more. I loved that.
Photo: The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris, commonly known as Sacré-Cœur is a Roman Catholic church dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, in Paris, France. A popular landmark, the basilica is located at the summit of Montmartre Paris, the highest point in the city.