French Men and an American Woman

French men seem to have an inborn appreciation for beauty. Is it the centuries of art, architecture and music that they have been exposed to? Does it hearken from the courtly days of royalty? I'm not sure but their sense of beauty clearly extends to the feminine form. If you sit at a cafe you can watch the men watching the women...with no apologies, no surreptitious glances, just full out adoration. The french women have also been trained from an early age to expect this type of adoration AND completely ignore it. So what happens when you add an American woman into this mix? Oh and i should add a happy American woman. This is a typical day.

Early morning on my way to the atelier to draw for three hours. Hair swept back (to keep out of the charcoal), jeans and black boots (because they are the only shoes I have that won't show the charcoal dust), carrying an armload of drawing supplies including a large portfolio to hold the papers, large silver earrings, no necklace (french women wear one or the other but not both...how gauche). Walking down my pedestrian only street on the way to the metro, the Brinks security guy sees me and starts following me with one eye on the road (so he doesn't hit a pedestrian like the Tri-met bus driver) and one eye in the mirror. He gets to the intersection before i do and despite his green light he waits to for me to catch up. He nods his head for me to cross the street (probably so he can catch a glimpse of my backside.) I do and he smiles appreciatively. He has a pick up(?) a hundred feet ahead of me. As I pass his stopped vehicle another smile and a bonne journee madam. Finally the metro.

There must be an unwritten rule for all metros in the world: dourness required for entry. I do my best to comply but its hard not to smile when you are thrown around the car like a go-cart ride and heck i'm in Paris on my way to create. No incidences on the subway (this time...more stories on other days but i am trying to focus on this day). However i leave the subway station and as i am walking to the atelier a delivery man (gorgeous by the way) calls out to me from the other side of the street, "Tres joli, votre sourier est tres tres joli" (very pretty, your smile is very, very pretty). He continues to beam and explain how wonderful it is to see such beauty. I duck into the studio, safe for now.

Later that day i am buying veges for a ratatouille at the local market. I am patiently waiting my turn as everything i want is on "promotion" which means i have to let the man behind the counter pick out my produce. Its my turn. He looks at me. Turns away. (Uh oh is the french brush off? Mais non) he turns back and produces a strawberry for the "very beautiful lady". (This is another good looking thirty-something.) He continues to strike up a conversation about how nice it is to see someone smiling and so beautiful and i am totally flustered and make it out of there with my aubergine, corgettes (zuchinni) and extra peppers because i was too embarrassed to say only one please.

AND the day is still not finished. I make the ratatouille in the late afternoon and head over for the evening admittance to the Louvre to hang with some beauty myself. I find a statue that is irresistible to sketch, so i pull out my pencil and my black moleskine. I am happy as a clam, looking at the shapes and angles, noticed the lights and darks, seeing the relations between the forms contained within the statue when as you can guess, up walks a french man. More glowing accolades for the gift of beauty, some conversation practice and a request for a phone number...denied.

My American friend living in Paris tells me i need to quit smiling. Happy people are presumed stupid people she tells me. Easy targets. But how can i turn off the glow inside? Why would i want to turn it off when i have worked so hard to liberate the joy that lives within? Maybe i need to be a little more selective as to who gets the full force of the light inside. Finally i return home. I feel completely fulfilled-- a day of creation, connection and beauty.