Mark's log of a year in Australia - and its continuing repercussions
Friday, March 11, 2016
Strolling through Paris is bringing back memories... It's not quite true that I was a sort of Parisian. I always felt I was on the outside looking in, something more painful than it is in New York because of the lively life of the narrow streets. (New York streets and sidewalks are broad enough that the public space of anonymous strangers holds its own against the inviting glow and gleam of the spaces of desire and conviviality, but here the joyous intimacy of others is less than an arm's length away.) Had I stayed, I might have gotten to know enough people that I'd be among the people squeezed into little cafés, bars, restaurants. Perhaps.