Here’s two of my favorite windows in Paris. Now, choosing a favorite window in Paris is a little like choosing your favorite flavor of chocolate: fudge? milk? hot fudge syrup over ice cream? nuts? How about caramel with fudge and nuts? That’s what Paris windows are like. Too many choices, too many flavors and colors.
The two windows from Paris I decided to show were the ones I spent the most time looking at or out of:
Here’s a shot of our hotel room and while you can’t see the window exactly, you can see the light. This is where I sat and wrote each day under the beams that held up the ceiling when Sartre lived here. Maybe he looked out this same window.
The second window that caught my fancy was one of the many and several images of St. Denis, patron saint of Paris, who, legend says, picked up his head after it was cut off and walked away from his killer still preaching. The ruff above his mitre (hat) is the ruff that would have framed his neck, had he a neck. Being a preacher myself, the whole idea amused me. Sometimes, perhaps, there are those who may think that the only way to shut me up would be to cut off my head (or take away my laptop!).