I nearly pooped out on you guys right now. I was going to write something along the lines of, "Tired. TTFN." But... I'll stay up all night thinking about what I want to write if I don't write it down now.
Today I took the advice of you guys and the Internet and stayed at the Louvre. Late. Very late. Night at the Museum late. Fortunately, I didn't get locked in with bones--or in this case, creepy naked statues--all night long. It was a bit...strange. No crowds. Silence. Occasional footsteps. Ropes being put up, announcements in cheery French to get the hell out. It felt very relaxing, though.
Here's the sculpture titled Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.
Grecian arabesque!
You know, the Dying Slave that the Louvre audio guides seem to prefer.
Veiled statues... How can you not be impressed? They're incredible.
Love the sculpture and background.
All these poses are so cool.
I know he's holding a scroll, but it looks like he's giving a nice thumbs-up.
I just like this photobomb.
I'm trying to refrain from posting all my photos, as I made a Facebook album, but they're just so cool with a nice camera! Plus, you know, the art is incredible.
Now I can really do this "gladiator"--warrior--justice.
Just to reiterate... I expect this when I come home.
Olive leaf crowns, man.
I never get tired of the Victory statue. So I'm sorry for all the next pictures....
You'd think after seeing so many Biblical tableaux they'd get boring... And some do. But when the art is really great, it tells a new story.
This girl was so enamored she could not pull away.
Without even looking at the plaque, I knew it was Da Vinci. Anyone who has seen Ever After will know that face, even if it is a different painting.
I can't help it! But the best part: the camera showed the "BLINKED EYE DETECTED" warning. Too bad cameras can't recognize when the eyes should be closed.
Artemis! (And her doe.)
La Jocunde in high definition. Well. Sort of.
So this is what the room actually looks like. I had the impression that they just put this painting in a room by itself, and the room is so crowded that you could get trampled. And while some people can't understand that 20 selfies is definitely more than enough, I haven't found it unbearable. But then... I technically live here. Wow. I live in Paris.
This round, I decided to give the other paintings in the room with the Mona Lisa some love. Because that is awesome.
I wish you could just look at the ceiling sometimes.
I got excited (let me finish the sentence before you panic) that this was a famous painting of Ophelia (from Hamlet) drowning. But no. Sigh.
This is why you have to look at paintings from different angles: I didn't even notice that dark, ominous shadow in the corner when I looked at it head-on. Also, how close does this girl really have to be to the painting???
Napoleon gets a lot of attention in this place. Gee, I wonder why???
A much older and more macabre version of Crossing the Delaware, in my humble opinion.
I hesitated to point this out on Facebook. But we're all adults here. Are they smoking from a hookah???
Viva la France! (NOT Viva La Vida.)
I'll spare you all the shots of the obnoxious teenagers who stood in front of me. (I'm pretty sure one of the boys was pretending to feel up the symbol of liberty. So, the lesson is: boys are boys EVERYWHERE.)
Now, as a literature lover, I think this painting is fascinating: it depicts Pola and Francesca da Rimini, two lovers who committed adultery. Dante, accompanied by Virgil, sees them on his journey through Hell (Circle Two, Canto Five, for all zero of you who care). And strangely, after talking to them, he feels pity for these two, which led us to an hour-long discussion about what constitutes sin. Literature classes. They're intense.
I know he's not short, but this painting is not helping dispel that rumor.
In my totally ignorant and irreverent fashion, I thought, Wait, is this the prehistoric "take a selfie" pose? Then, You're an idiot, Willard. She's obviously praying. And that seems like a more appropriate response, given the situation depicted here.
This is just another one of those that I can't and will never understand. Just because, What what what is actually going on here?
We found Nick Giuliani in Raphael, and now we find my dear friend Bryan Salazar in this Le
Révérend Père Dominique Lacordaire. It's totally him. We've found doppelgangers in the past: famously, Nick as Raphael and--to add a throwback here--Mr. Berard as Matthew Risch, understudy to the part of Warner Huntington III in Legally Blonde: The Musical.
Aside: Oh, no. Where is that picture??? Help, Mother!
Because who doesn't like tigers?
We've got a prime set of twins here. (See what I did, Laney and Marie?)
I'm imagining this is how my mother felt when she held me as a baby.
Good to know that they had the same expression on their faces when they practiced their instruments back then as I did when I was younger.
Don't underestimate the ceilings!
If I'm not mistaken, this is the Grand Palais/Opera, and Jamie and I are totally going. Non-negotiable, made especially easy because we both really want to go.
I've always loved cityscapes.
This would have been a prime candidate for a TV feature about hoarders.
The coolest part about the four pictures above? They were three-dimensional. Parts of the surfaces were higher than the others.
"Smoke, smoke / Sign of the devil / Sign of the devil / City on fire!" - Sweeney Todd
I didn't look at the plaque because I already decided that the central figure is St. Nicholas, aka Santa Claus.
This takes flower painting to the next level.
Even arches above doorways are spectacular.
These following pictures will probably be boring, but isn't it crazy how empty it is?
Eerie, yes. But I felt comforted by all the beauty.
I am going to have to look up this whole Louvre Abu Dhabi thing because I'm lost. It just basically reminds me how NYU had set up its NYU Abu Dabi Program the same year I was applying to college, and I'd constantly threaten my mother that I'd apply there. I'm such a dear child.
Side note: I would've gotten my comeuppance in ancient Mesopotamia. According to Hammurabi's Code of Law, if an adopted child tells their adopted parents that they are not his/her "real" parents, that child will have his/her tongue cut out. Sadly, I would've been an Avox. But in my very weak defense, I was 13 years old, and we all did things we regret back then.
Interesting, as I received word the the museum closed around 9 pm. I left around 10 pm. And I thought, The night is still young! So I headed to the Mecca for Lost Generation writing fans: Les Deux Magots. I had to regain my cousin's good graces. :)
I enjoyed a nice meal in the Glass Room, giving me a chance to people-watch without turning into a popsicle outside. I also got a convenient view of the church across the street that Amy had told me about earlier today. I loved it. Here's my terrible picture of the church (I hope to go back tomorrow--if I can get up, that is):
Then the food-blog style picture of my dinner:
Tagliatelle pasta with tomato and salmon. That was the pâtes du jour, or pasta of the day--evening, in my case. My waiter was very kind, letting me jot in my journal like the pretentious writing student that I am.
Except I look at my watch after coming out of my reverie, and holy hell, it's 11:40 pm. The Metro closes at 12:30 am on weekdays. Crap! And Les Deux Magots closes at 1:00 am. Ahhhhhh. Thankfully, my waiter exceeded all the crappy waiters I've had in the past (especially the drunk one), as he gave me cash for a cab by charging my card an extra 20 euros. I did not want to use an ATM at that hour! That was nice of him, since I know so many places that will give you a hard time with little things like that.
Then he snapped this lovely photo--if I do say so myself--of me outside the restaurant, à la Amy Hayes in this lovely photo:
I apologize for my lack of Instagram filter.
And I'm proudly sporting Jamie's Christmas gift scarf to me, so I got to kill two birds with one stone--er, please two dear people in my life.
I'll try to do another photo, in the daytime, as I want to go back to that area: Victor Hugo's home and Marie Curie's lab are on that side of Paris. Plus that church did look very cool. And there was a strange statue behind me that I had wanted to investigate. But I don't want to raise any hopes, as I am dog-tired. Droopy eyes.
Well, this was a night to remember. The waiter also directed me to a certified cab stand so I didn't get into one of those rogue cabs. As far as cabs go, it was very nice. It had a sunroof, which I remember was the thing I loved most about our old Saab. :)
Since I'm a hoarder, I saved my limonade (Sprite, basically) bottle from tonight. I needed a token.
(P.S. On the subject of tipping, now I just round out whatever my total is with coins, as they don't let you add a tip with a card like in the US. It makes me feel good, especially since I have received excellent service. I don't see people at American restaurants rearranging tables so I can sit comfortably.)
[P.P.S. Bonus: (Though I'm sure it doesn't feel like it.) Me going all KSoult in an elevator, since the official apartment rules declare that you must use the elevator past 10 pm.
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