I <3 Miró. I first fell in love with him when I was in London, standing in one of the many rooms of Tate Modern, gazing at Message d’ami (Message from a friend). I was immediately smitten. What started as an attempt to get acquainted with modern art (I used to be a tad scathing about modern art movement) became a day of exploration and unspoken connection. That day, I learned a true lesson in the beauty of keeping an open mind and giving things a try. At least once.

At Musée Maillol, an exhibition of Miró’s sculptures is currently taking place and it is so good to see the familiar elements of his paintings also reflected in the sculptures. The one thing missing is the bold colour blocks, given most of the sculptures were casted in bronze and not cured in any other way. I miss those vibrant colours. There are a couple of coloured preparatory sketches in exhibition, along with 2-3 paintings proper, but that’s too few for my liking.

In writing this blog post, I discovered that another Miró exhibition is currently running in Tate Modern, which assembles paintings from public and private collection (what a coup!). I need to now find some free time to Eurostar myself over to London. Oh where in my calendar can I fit this in…?

Another work week coming to an end, albeit this is a slightly lighter one compared to the past few. Nonetheless, it didn’t mean I could slack off, as I was scheduled to give a presentation today on my work project. However, with this now done, I could have a truly work-free weekend in the next couple of days, so I am happy, happy, happy!

On the way home this evening after dinner – Ani and I went to an Ethiopian restaurant – as we passed by Boulevard de Port Royal, the dim light against this stain window proved irresistable to me. By now, Ani knows what I’m up to and patiently waited for me to whip out my camera, snapped a couple of shots, and be ready to continue our journey. Don’t you agree this stainglass is pretty and rather apt given the season now for tulips to bloom just about everywhere? ;)

Let’s explore a bit more of Cité U.

I’ve been walking around a bit more around the campus and each time, I find something that I think should be shared. Today, it’s this medieval looking door that, for some reason, reminded me of the story of Snow White and Rose Red. It has got to be the roses. Some of the pink ones light enough to appear white, and the luscious bold red to the other side.

The Deutsch de la Meurthe Foundation was the first building of the campus, and has since expanded to encompass a total of seven adjacent buildings. Inspired by English colleges such as Oxford and Cambridge, there are beautiful gardens landscaped around the Foundation, along with paved terraces which gives the Foundation a sense of connection between its buildings.

Not everyone’s pleased with Dan Brown’s writing and I guess one of them are the folks from St Sulpice, who may have to deal with the many queries that they put up this sign next to the gnomon inside the church, indeed built around a meridian but not the Paris Meridian.

“Contrary to fanciful allegations in a recent best-selling novel, this is not a vestige of pagan temple. No such temple ever existed in this place. It was never called a < Rose-Line >. It does not coincide with the meridian traced through the middle of the Paris Observatory which serves as a reference for maps where longitudes are measured in degrees East or West of Paris. No mystical notion can be derived from this instrument of astronomy except to acknowledge that God the Creator is the master of time.

Please also note that the letter < P > and < S > in the small round windows at both ends of the transept refer to Peter and Sulpice, the patron saints of the church, not an imaginary Priory of Sion.”

There you go, a little random information for the day.

Many years ago, Marcel Aymé wrote a short story called Le Passe-Muraille (The man who walks through the wall) and it became of one his most famous works. Set in Montmartre, at rue Norvins, where Aymé lived, the protagonist Dutilleul found himself with most unusual talent for walking through walls but later accidentally “cured” himself and was stuck in a wall following a late night rendezvous. Poor guy had no one but the painter Eugene Paul who occasionally sang, accompanied by a guitar, as consolation. (Read the translated work here.)

Today, at the corner of rue Norvins, sits a bronze sculpture to honour Aymé and this short story of his. It is a poetic tribute, for the location commemorates not only where Dutilleul found himself imprisoned for life, but also the writer himself living in the building just adjacent to the wall. Visitors today seem to believe that rubbing the hand of the sculpture would bring good fortune. The proof – shiny and sparkling hand of the bronze figure. ;)

One thing that you may have noticed by now, is that street art is never just something born out of vandalism. Especially in Paris. Some are works to reclaim the public space for expression of art, some are works to put out a message – political or not – to the public, some are works to provide food for thoughts, some are works to beautify the living space.

This mural which covers the entire side of a building can be found near Gare du Nord (I forgot to mark down the name of the street, but I believe it’s at the fork of rue La Fayette and rue de l’Aqueduc) is striking to me for a couple of reasons. First, the representation of Paris. Just try to see how many monuments you could identify. From the obvious (Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Arc de Triomphe, Obelisk of Luxor) to the nestled and ambiguous (Assemblée Nationale, the pyramid of the Louvre, Panthéon). Secondly, the depiction of Parisian life and history, all in man’s memory, and you’re just there, at the tiny corner, looking up to all that has come together in this city.

Painted in 1992 (clearly marked) this mural of nearly two decade old still holds true today. Paris is dynamic and ever changing, but the core value within, they are contained and unforgettable.

Sure, this is no Laetitia Casta (who was voted in 1999 as symbolic representation of French Republic) but Marianne is everywhere, celebrated in form of monumental sculptures, leading lady in paintings, the caricature on the stamps, even carried daily in our pockets as the French euro coins are engraved with her image.

Standing tall – it is 9.5m in height – and dominant at Place de la République, this bronze sculpture of Marianne by Léopold Morice sits above a base of 15m in height with three other sculptures of the allegories to Liberté, Égalité and Fraternité by Charles Morice. The brothers effectively executed a perfect classical monument to represent the state, for the values that her people fought for in the French Revolution.

I’ve tried to photograph this monument in its entirety but at that time of day, with traffic teeming around the square and people everywhere, I couldn’t find a frame that I like, that I’m happy with. Maybe I should try some day really early in the morning?

Choosing a single photo for today is tricky, since I was on a walking tour of Montmartre and saw plenty that are interesting or amusing. I guess that means I need to set up a separate album at some stage. (I am already terribly slow in updating the blog, ooops.) For now though, one from among the firsts of the day – wedding photoshoot at the hill of Montmartre. The poor girl was coooooold, and in between shots, huddled enveloped within a huge furry jacket.

It is not uncommon to see wedding photoshoot around Paris. By the Eiffel Tower, next to fountains of Place de la Concorde, along Champs-Élysées… What is rather curious though, is that usually the couples are either Japanese or Chinese. I have not yet seen any French ones doing the same. Perhaps it has got to do with Asian tendency for establishing an entire album of wedding photo ahead of the big day. If French don’t do that, then it goes without saying they won’t have time to run around the city for posed photos on the wedding day itself.

The Church of Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge sits very dominantly at Alésia, pretty much right above the metro station, and the first time I had a glimpse of it a few weeks ago was totally by chance. I was travelling to Porte d’Orléans, the terminus of line 4, but wasn’t paying attention so when I noticed just about everyone in my carriage getting off, I naturally assumed we’ve came to the end of line. To say I was momentarily disorientated was putting it mildly.

Passing by it again this evening (I was at a cinema nearby with Ani – we went to see Detective Dee – Chinese movie!) I thought I should take a shot of it. In particular, to show off the entertwining symbol of SP for Saint Pierre. Afterall, it could easily be looked at as PS and if you think Da Vinci Code and its link to Paris (in the little world of Dan Brown), I wonder if he knew about this church and would write anything about it as part of the story plot?

It feels so good to have a solid night sleep. I don’t know how some people can pull one all-nighter after another. I certainly couldn’t, and wouldn’t want to if I can help it. I can make do with the odd sleepless night here and there with huge interval in between, but that’s about all the concession I’m going to make for work.

This evening, Anne and I dropped by l’Occitane for a little soirée Angélique to check out their new range of product. While we were there, the staff conducted a little questionnaire and with just 4-5 questions, she pegged down my personality as “Angélique splash”* which Anne agrees to. Am I that easy to “get”? Never mind… time enough to grab some candies and drinks after a short skincare demo session plus having a funny photo taken. I wonder if they’ll email a copy to us. Maybe not.

* l’Angélique splash: full of vitality and you believe in living life to the fullest