all hail

mes amis –

it has been a trop long temps.
i know.
but here i am.
voila!

instead of dwelling on the particulars of my silence, i want to describe a scene that just overpowered me.

i am currently in a strange land they call “the financial district,” or,  “fidi” (pronounced “fye-die” to those in the know). it is tres tidy here. there is hustle and bustle. people wear work costumes! there are smokers on the street and tourists by a bull. j’adore.

i am here on a residenza with the LMCC, a marvelous organization putting offices to good artistic use. in any case, je suis ici. toiling on some freelance work before i begin my art work. isn’t that always the case?

down i go through security to get some soup. all hail and hearty. it has been indeed a long temps since i popped into this soup lover’s haven. the menu has changed. there are symbols to learn. a dizzying mix of soups. i try “vegetarian campfire.” too spicy for this kippy!

in an age old time would i have ordered it anyway and suffered the consequences?

i try the sweet potato chorizo. still calliente and on the edge, but not nearly as lethal as the campfire. i’m proud of my restraint. the woman behind the counter is as friendly as the financial district is fanciful-free. it isn’t rush hour. in fact, it’s after 3PM–a late lunch pour moi!

a song plays while she pours me my soup and i am suddenly transported to some back of the bus. is it after a soccer game? or am i in a car avec mon pere on the way to a rehearsal for a play? who is this singing anyway? ah, the elusive nelly furtado. what’s become of her? is it 1996 or 2016?

i return to the hale and hearty of the present and realize that life IS too short and the days of absconding to hale and hearty for respite from the office storms of yesteryear are done! i am now in an office, oui, but a very different one from the one i left in feb 2015.

the song jangles away with effortless enthusiasm. i nearly get a tear in my eye half believing nelly’s refrain and mixing it with my own pop psychology anthems. have i experienced “personal growth”?

the woman at the counter asks if i have an app.

“not today,” i sigh.

this kippy doesn’t download apps. i eat apps and i certainly never call them that–only appetizers, appeteasers or preferably hors d’oevres. in the days of yesteryear there was a little paper card. alas, even hale and hearty has modernized.

i march back to the office in my artist costume that isn’t fit for this weather.

back in the land of the beige carpets i smile. there is a key i must use and the lock is mysteriously on the floor, not by the door handle. so even though i am in an office setting i must get down on my knees and thank the fidi gods for their munificence!

opening the door to this office is much like taking off one’s shoes at the airport: equal parts humiliating, humble-making, and absurd. i love it.

a bientot!
KW