Finding the Past in Paris

"The Artist in Paris" Acrylics on Canvas 16x10 2016

10 years ago I was 21 years old and doing a study abroad across the street from the Luxembourg Gardens in the middle of summer. 10 years ago I had about 2 semesters to go before graduation. I was young and naïve, full of ambition and anxiety about what was to happen next in life. I was single in a seductive city with a class full of pretty girls. It was a beautiful time to be young.

I am visiting the city again as an adult. There is a pull to the city and something I have left behind. I am looking for a piece of my past, something to make sense of my present. There was a mother traveling alone with her infant in the seat in front of me on the flight there. I barely sleep for more than an hour on the flight getting into Paris. I land and take a taxi to my apartment for the week. I meet some friends for lunch and don’t find my way back into bed until 5am. I wake up at 4pm the next day and curse myself for wasting so much time.

High moral values wouldn’t be the way you would have described me as a young man. I believed that I wouldn’t ever marry, wouldn’t have a family, and as age creeps up, the reality of things becomes a bit more clear. I was not a good son or human being for a long time. I blew off my family for things I deemed more important, things which were quite fleeting in retrospect. I negated a lot of those closest to me for my own wants and desires. I felt a need for individualism and to break away from my own innate background.

I step outside of the apartment and it is biting cold with a light snow falling from the sky. I have no phone and want to know that I am able to find ­­­my way back to the past. I am hoping that my memory will serve me well enough to navigate the streets. I feel very lonely in the city knowing that the only goal is a destination to a time in my life that had long ago slipped away. Like picking up a book and rereading it a decade later, the meanings change.

I had classes in the mornings and would spend the rest of the day at the garden or exploring the city. My classmates and I would buy out the entire 4 Euro stock of cheap red wine from the local corner market and smoke hash we scored from North African immigrants in the park. I didn’t think much about the class or our assignments and was mostly checked out of college and classes in general. It was my one last hurrah before I was to move away from the safety of my little college town and into the work force, away from the friends I’d met and the unscrupulous abandon of my college life.  

I make my way down Rue du Renard towards the River and the Notre Dame. I walk past the people hurrying about their way home through the growing evening. There are large crowds of tourists taking pictures at the Hotel de Ville. I stop on the Seine and watch the sun set and the water sparkle and shine with the city. Lovers huddled close together as they make their way across the bustling cobbled streets. The city is romantic and very lonely at the same time.

I remember B______. She was a girl from my class that I liked and we would hold hands down unfamiliar streets and discuss our dreams and desires for the future. We talked about our class and friends back home. She had eyes like a cat, and would always smile slyly at me like she knew a secret that I didn’t. She had a boyfriend at the time so nothing ever got too serious even though I did try to persuade her otherwise.

"Another Time, Another Place" 28x22 Acrylics on Canvas 2016

I get to St. Michel and the streets become familiar. The storefronts new, but the same. In college I had very romantic notions of becoming a writer and painter; I would have never thought I would be where I am today. I was not hungry enough as a young man and was chasing the wrong things. Life was a series of meaningless achievements lined up on a forgotten mantelpiece back home. There is an oceans distance between stability and chasing a dream. My present still seems uncertain, so I search in the past. I know I will find nothing there, but truth and destiny seem to be always right around the corner.

As a young person I didn’t really think about life or time. I mostly chased women, knowing that I would pass my classes through wit, cheating, and charm. It was the way that I had mostly gone through life and it was a horrible way to go about things. I know that I’ve made some bad choices, but life is a series of mistakes until you find the truth, or at least your own truth.

The crowd thins as I take a right on Medicis which turns into Vaugirard. The streets are now quiet except for the occasional pedestrian. I panic a bit as I realize that I am not quite sure of where I am, and that maybe I’ve lost my way. I cross back and forth a few times but find the Rue de Fleurus and take a right on Jean Bart. I finally find the old Hotel, which sits adjacent to a police station in a quiet neighborhood. I peer inside and the place still looks the same. A small quiet waiting area and a front desk which the old front desk man takes his night shifts. My roommates and I would stay up late in bed smoking cigarettes and talk about what we wanted to have accomplished by the time we were 30.
Would who I was back then be proud of who I'd become?

It makes me sad a little bit to think that this hotel has not changed at all. And I think that maybe that’s the case with most things and that only people change. I don’t know why I had to make it all the way across town to look at this place from my past, but I knew that I wanted to see it. I look at my watch and it is already 9pm. I grab a sandwich and soda from a convenience store and eat it on the way back across the river. I am content knowing that I have found what I was looking for even though there was no answer.

I am in my 30s. My parents are getting older, women have come and gone, and sometimes people just say good bye. The man I was in my 20s is not the man I am today. People change, thoughts change, and beliefs change. I went looking for my past in some old landmark and there was nothing there. I am just another cynical, broken man with a string of bad relationships and a half-realized dream. Life is made up of memories and I certainly don’t want to spend the rest of my 30s in meaningless pursuits. I went looking for an answer, but those things never come easy. The answer was never in the past, but is a nebulous beacon somewhere ahead, like Gatsby looking out across the bay.

I make my way home out of the chill and the darkness to the quiet and solitude of my clean, well lit apartment. The world is silent besides the late night drunks wandering the streets. Everything I know is half the world away, but I find solace in knowing that I am the same person here as I am anywhere else. I have a moment of doubt and feel like I have not yet done anything with my life, but it passes. I am free, I am young, and I can yet achieve anything. I have all the potential in the world, it’s just a matter of moving forward and into the unknown.

Blurring the Lines

I try to be honest with the things I write and I try to not to step on any toes. Anonymity is a key factor especially when writing about real people who have their own views and opinions differing from my own. Recently I’ve had a slew of differing encounters with people regarding stories and posts I’ve put up. I share things which I cannot take back and I understand how a lot of things can be taken out of context especially when I am prone to elaboration and artistic license. I want the stories to be entertaining, but I also want to be truthful. I am sometimes worried about the history and subject matter which some people may find distasteful, but in the end the content is meant to get to things I myself don’t fully comprehend and am trying to figure out. 

It was going to be a particularly busy day. I had a tournament in the morning, a baby shower in the afternoon, and plans to meet some friends at an art show and drinks later on in the evening.

Talking to parents at a tournament usually means talking their kids up and ending with things they need to improve on. The worst parents are the ones who demand that their kids get more playing time, because their child is usually a terrible athlete. Those conversations are few and far between and mostly parents are quite positive. Talking to a parent that morning, P____ came into the conversation (“They Player that Never Was”).

“You know Mrs. G_____ was not too happy about your blog post about P_____”

“Yeah I could see how she would be upset about something like that.”

“It wasn’t too anonymous.”

“No, I suppose not” I answered, feeling a tinge of guilt. “That situation bothered me for a very long time. I tried very hard to get that kid back.”

She nodded but I could not tell if she agreed with me.

After the tournament I stopped by a baby shower for a college friend who was expecting his first child. I’ve been to a few of these co-ed baby showers/parties now, which strictly were only women just a few years back. I struck up a conversation with an acquaintance also single in his 30s. He asked about my drinking issues (“A Sordid Love Affair”.)

“You still drinking?”

“Yeah I mean I didn’t completely quit. I just quit drinking by myself, it started becoming a habit everyday after work.”

“So I heard you’re single now.”

“Yeah S______ and I broke up a few months ago.” I’ve found that there are two types of people, those who will automatically ask you about a breakup and those who wait for you to bring it up.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I mean it is what it is. Just staying busy and focusing on my career.”

He looked away and the conversation was interrupted by the opening of baby gifts.

I went home around 4pm to take a nap. I woke up to a call from C_____, a college friend who had recently moved into the bay area. C_____ and I were very close and had traveled together and kept in touch throughout our careers. He had moved to the bay area to be with his girlfriend who also happened to be my first serious relationship in college. I felt a little awkward about the situation when he first brought it up a few years ago, but they seem to be doing well and I’m glad that he is happy and seems to be quite settled. I’ve never felt it was my say what happened with anything after I parted ways with someone.

“I want to pick up a painting from you but T_____ would never allow it in the house.”

“What do you mean? It’s just a painting, you can just put it up anywhere.”

“She hates you man.”

“I don’t understand why she hates me. It’s been over a decade since we’ve broken up. So you’re saying I wouldn’t be invited to your wedding?”

He laughed into the receiver. “No man, no fucking way. She thinks you cheated on her.”

“Why would she think that?”

“She reads those stories you put up. She thinks you cheated on her while you were in China.”

(“A Night Out in China”)

“I’m surprised she even reads anything I put out.” I didn’t know how I felt about it, but it wasn’t too positive.

We made plans to meet up in a few weeks.

I drove out downtown to meet friends at a big art opening. Afterwards we migrated to Geary Club, a small dive in the Tenderloin.

“How was Taiwan?” (“A Wide Expanse of Water”)

“It was good, hung out with my folks and family mostly.”

“Did you go out at all?”

“Yeah was in Taipei for a few days, but nothing too crazy.”

“Have you started dating yet?”

“I’ve tried some dating apps, but not super into it. I would much rather just meet someone in real life.”

“Well you know that N_____ and I met on match.com right?” They were going to be married in October.

“Yeah, but its just a little strange, I’ve been on online dates before but it’s not really for me.”

“You’ve got to just stick with it.”

We moved down to Novella on Mission for a friend’s birthday party. The place with packed to the brim and we had to wait a little while in line before getting in.

“You going to W_____ and C_____’s wedding?” (“Loneliness in Frankfurt”)

“No man, I am not invited.”

“What about that girl E_____ from last week. You guys seemed to hit it off.”

“I mean she’s really cute and successful, but I don’t really want to jump into anything right now.”

“You can’t get over anyone without getting under someone.”

I watched the crowd and the young people enjoying their night. I bumped into a friend I hadn’t seen in years and he asked if I was still bartending. (“Never say Never”)

“No, not anymore man. It wasn’t really for me.”

“I definitely follow your blog quite a bit. You’re a great writer.”

“Thank man, I appreciate that.”

“You really put everything out on the line and it’s refreshing jump from the rest of the things people usually post on Facebook and social media. I recently broke up with my girlfriend too.” (“A Long Ride Home”)

“I’m sure everyone goes through the things I go through. The dating scenes changed quite a bit though.”

“Yeah, we should hang out and go cruising sometime.”

We exchanged numbers and went about our way. I left Novela with my friends and went back to the Tenderloin to grab some food. I got a text from S______.

“Hey I just wanted to see how you were doing. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

I was tired and said goodbye to everyone and made the drive home.

I got a call from my mom on the way back.

“Hey mom, what’s up.”

“Nothing, just worried about you.”

“Why are you worried?”

“About you and S______ and your relationships. You seem to always just break up at the end and every relationship follows the same timeline and trend.”

“I’m doing okay, you shouldn’t be worried mom. Things like this happen and I’m busy and getting about my own things.”

“I just don’t understand why your relationships always end like that.”

“It’s like I mean them to. Sometimes people just don’t get along. I don’t think I would want to spend the rest of my life arguing about the same things with one person forever. There’s still a lot of things I want to do before I really settle down.”

“I know.”

“Don’t worry mom, there’s nothing to think about it.”

I wanted to reassure her the best I could and to have her just be at peace with what I was doing, but mom’s have a way about seeing their children as children forever. She worried from care and love and if I were younger I would have probably gotten annoyed with the whole conversation. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her I was managing well, but my voice probably belied my true feelings. (“A Very Short Thunderstorm”)

A Long Ride Home

They waited on the corner of Sacramento and Polk for their Uber. It was only a little bit past 12, but it had been a long night and all they wanted to do was get back home. She was in a floral print blouse and heels and the young man in a tshirt and jeans.

“Why did you get so drunk? It was really embarrassing showing up in front of my coworkers like that.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“You told me that you were going to try to change.”

“I’m just not feeling like myself lately.”

“It doesn’t mean you have to drink so much.”

They waited in silence on the curb. The car arrived shortly and they got into the long ride home.

“What are we going to do about Thanksgiving?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we going to stay here or are we going to my parent’s?"

“Whatever you want, it doesn’t really matter much to me.”

“Well, since we are going to be traveling for Christmas we should probably go to my parents for Thanksgiving” she said decidedly.

“What are we doing with our relationship?”

“We’re doing fine T_____, why bring something like that up exactly at this moment?”

“Because we never talk about it and you always brush it off, exactly like you’re doing right now.”

“It’s just going to lead into another fight and that’s really the last thing I want to do right now. I don’t understand why you can’t just let things be."

“You don’t even want to get married, how am I supposed to be with someone who doesn’t want to marry me?”

“Then maybe we should just break up and go about our own ways.”

“Why do you always have to take it to that point?”

“Maybe we’re just different people and it’s just not working out.”

“Why can’t we just go to couple’s therapy and try to talk things out and work on these issues instead of just having you just throw everything away.”

“I’m not throwing anything away. I’m just sick of repeating the same arguments. We’re different people and it seems that we’re just going in opposite directions. What’s the point of trying to force things if we aren’t working? We should end things now before it gets even more complicated.”

She started to sniffle. “I should have listened to my parent’s and never moved in with you.”

“It was never my idea to begin with.”

“I should have stayed on the East Coast. I moved all the way out here for you and now you’re just throwing everything away. You don’t even care.”

“T______ you know that I care. We just can’t do this to each other anymore.”

“I should have never moved out here.”

“Well you can’t just go about getting everything you want in life.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He looked up at the Uber driver embarrassed but the driver was staring straight ahead into the dark road. They continued there long journey home in silence, with nothing resolved.