Feminism – Page 6 – Hannah Nicklin

Oh and the Bastille too. The monument to which is unceremoniously planted right in the middle of an extremely busy roundabout. But there you go. I went there, and thought a bit about all of the people who die fighting for a better world for the many, not the few.

I also (as you can see) found all of the bits I wanted to see in the Musée d’Orsay, including some stunning, stunning expressionism. Compelled to pick up my paints again. Last time I had money – well, the last time I had a regular wage coming in at least – I picked up some oils, normally I use acrylics, but was interested in trying something a bit different, may try an experimental still life one evening this week.

Did some more wandering, came across some more live music in Notre Dame, and had a very good sandwich for lunch (why is French mayo so much tastier?). No picture of that but I have included a picture of my meal last night. Nom.

I loved the Metro, genius, easy to use, frequent, and all over the place, one journée or Paris Visite billet and you’ve the freedom of the city, really. Helped me do my fave bit of the trip, which aside from the paintings was the wandering and exploring.

Other pictures are just stuff wot I have seen. Including a scrawled ‘SEXISTE’ over the ridiculous pornographic big breasted animal Orangina advert, that I think Ofcom investigated in the UK. Pretty simple provocative women=base animal status. More people should subvertise these kind of posters. Remind me to carry a thick marker pen with me at all times. I can use it to correct apostrophe abuse too.

This seems like a lot of pictures, but it really is the tip of the iceberg… I’m a picture-y person I’m afraid. So yes, this morning began with a trip to Montparnasse – to the cemetery there, and to the graves of one of the mothers of feminism, and one of the fathers of modern theatre. Hard to explain what both mean to me. But let’s go with ‘a lot’, shall we? I was sad to see Simone de Beauvoir over shadowed in death as well as life, sharing a tombstone, and second billing under Sartre. Probably many reasons for this, like he died first, and she probably did want to be buried with him… Love and all that. On the grave, aside from flowers, people had left their Metro billets weighed down with little stones – no other grave had that. Also, Beckett was well hard to find, amongst all of the ornate-as-hell tombs and stones and statues, just a flat piece of marble. With his name on it. And a bit of bird crap. Which I think he would have laughed at. Other things I did include 3/5 of the Musée d’Orsay, and the Eiffel Tower (though I didn’t go up it – waiting time was at 4hours – fuck that shit. I do not like to wait). So I took some pictures, and then went to Notre Dame. Which wasn’t very big. Nice and all. But I’m used to to Lincoln Cathedral… and I may be coming across as uncultured *shrugs* but I’m not so good at the ‘landmark’ stuff. Few marvels is good but there comes a point I’m all architechture-d out – I’d rather have a wander, which I then did. One of the best bits of the trip. Found awesome shops, bought a cake, did some sketches in a park, and came across a live band. All very cool. I really like wandering on my own. And it was brilliant to do a bit of drawing, there’s something about trying to faithfully replicate that clears my mind entirely, with all my current money worries etc., it was brilliant to have it all wash away for a few hours.

Hold on, is this what people call ‘relaxing’?

In the evening I had an awesome, awesome meal somewhere called ‘Lui… Linsolent’ – highly recommended – 15 rue Caulaincourt 75018 Paris, if you ever want anything to eat in Monmarte. Aside from all the prostitutes. Go there.

Tomorrow, I think, may be the Sacre-Cour – and the Van Goch in the d’Orsday, which I somehow missed. Apparently there are five floors. I only found three… So yes, thanks for your interest (or at least your attention, if you’ve read thus far)… my train leaves Paris at 5pm tomorrow, so will probably tweet anything exciting then.

Au revoir xx