. . . and the weekend began with an enormous bouquet of palest pink long stem roses, and in between afternoon sunshine and starlit dinners, there was [finally] the chance to see the film, melancholia [beautiful, depressing], and there were visits with old friends, barbeques and beaujolais, and many hours spent planning for the enormous [& enormously exciting] changes ahead, and today, a new week, filled with brand new and wonderful things . . . one of which, is below . . .
At the very centre—the heart, soul and jewel of France, we find Paris . . . Paris in all of its overwhelming magic and allure. Paris that, perhaps of all places around the globe, of all the islands and coasts, extraordinary mountains, cities, and countrysides, might just be the most dreamed about of them all. And is it with any wonder? Enveloping the experience of l'art de vivre is a rosy hue, a hue only seen while you are there [long remembered and forever held in the heart], swept up in the magic of the city of lights. Here, for hundreds of years, thousands and thousands of visitors near and far have traveled to visit, to live, [even if just for the day] amongst all that is Paris.
Here we find perfectly imperfect cobblestone streets, many offset by poetically tilted and beautifully aged architecture, and as we walk, we quietly take in the unabashed beauty and élan, as elegant & effortlessly stylish women pass by; an older man, pedaling along on his bicyclette, en route to the barber may bring on a smile—indeed, a postcard sight; ladies immersed in each other's company, tucked in bold red chairs at a quaint café, back and forth they speak, in reverent conversation; or peek into the windows of elegantly merchandised shop windows, seductively showcasing handmade merchandise, created with skills perfected centuries ago. A host of streets may call you to stroll, looking up as you go, at the decorated facades, noticing a tiny pot with a cheerful blossom tucked into the tiniest of nooks. Not so unlike Paris, where charm abounds—charm and quality, hand in hand—be it fine foods or perfumes, fundamental manners & etiquette, or tying a scarf with flair.
Perhaps it's passion? Perhaps it's Paris. A city unlike any other, Paris calls creatives to create, lovers in love, and explores to explore . . . for those with an appetite to discover and to learn may discover a convergence of past and present, and may lose themselves forever, never to be the same. And so, today we warmly invite you to join us as we visit some of the most memorable places, and share some of best kept secrets in our address book of Paris . . .
. . . the first week of this new year has already been a spectacular flurry of activity, beginning with a new tiffany blue & gold-leafed daybook waiting to be filled, and on the eve of new year's day, a meeting in a hotel lobby amidst the still twinkling post-holiday fairy lights, to plot and to plan and to dream, and there is so much to tell you, including, currently, two enormously exciting projects in the works, a wedding in paris in june, and still to come, the grandest adventure of all, that may just change everything -- and so, it is wild anticipation that we begin the second week of this new year . . .
. . . and the year still feels so new, one can not help but look back, [just a little], and with ever so much fondness, and a bittersweet nostalgia, at the last, and so, with plain disregard to numbers & figures, a few favourites from the past year . . .
. . . and on a tuesday that feels like a monday, a collection of beautiful things: the top twelve most popular posts, one for each month, of the year we leave behind . . .
. . . and in between the unpacked suitcases and last-minute trips, overflowing inboxes and busy days at the office, the starry autumn nights in silvery shoes and champagne, there was time to dream up brand new and wonderful things . . . one of which, is below . . .
