When the sun comes out, everything seems to change. The leaves on a tree begin to sparkle as the sunlight filters through them, couples with their small dogs dressed up in tiny knit sweaters grace the sidewalks, the teeth of an old man's smile become opaque, and calmly wash over me and remind me of home. Perhaps the
presence of the light is a delayed reflection of those things we cannot notice when it is dark, a mail-in rebate that arrives months later. The appearance of light permits us to view the reflection the mirror had kept from us, the reflections enveloped by the mirrors own deceitful mechanisms. Today the light lingered. Filtering through my thoughts, soothing my mind, yet prying at something unspoken. Living in Paris for the past seven months has been, conveniently and like most things in my life, about the light(but only in terms of the dark). Here, in Paris I have found love, friendship, and integrity. I go out with my friends at night, and return home with my girlfriend feeling so "Parisian." Not because I've just spent my time smoking, drinking beer, and socializing with French models, but because I've spent my time with some of the most down to earth people I have ever met, laughing and talking about farting, cross dressing, and Seinfield. I can't get enough. Of my love, of my friends, and most of all of this city- there is still so much to explore.
Today it dawned on me: only three more months left!
