a memory of the smell of smoke

i have this thing that i always do...
enter these contests to win trips to wonderful getaways,
like barcelona and paris.
the entry forms usually include a bit to offer your own quip
of the city and why you want to visit it.
i always take a decent amount of time and conjure up something
completely over the top about the locale and my recent
bit for the YSL parisienne contest was no different,
actually, i deem this one the most blown up yet...
i think its quite funny.
it started from my entry last year for a flavorpill trip to paris
(which i did not win)

the pale lights and mysterious darkness of Paris cast a
glow and haze over its sights. The ambiguity of both the
soft sparkle and shadow, high and low of everyday Parisian
life inspire my work in photography and painting. From the cafes
to the catacombs, I aspire to explore the light, dark and all the
rooftop shades of grey in between. Paris leaves its lovers with
a glint in their eye and a melancholy in their hearts. I'd like to be
one of them and take my journey to inform my creative palate.

now for the YSL Parisienne bit...


Soft Sparkle and Shadow, the Fragrant Air of a Charmed Life

The pale lights and mysterious darkness of Paris cast a
glow and haze over its sights. The ambiguity of both the
soft sparkle and shadow, high and low of everyday inspire the
Vie Parisienne. From the cafes to the catacombs, there is a light,
dark and all the rooftop shades of grey in between. Paris leaves its
lovers with a glint in their eye and a melancholy in their hearts,
a never-ending longing for the city of light and spirit.

Every time I leave Paris and travel to other cities, I can feel the
essence trail behind me. I have sat in cafes in Prague, looked out
rooftop windows in New York and walked quiet winding streets in
Sevilla and felt the lingering air of Paris. It is as if the zephyr Parisienne
has flowed and followed me in every locale since my last stop within
its walls. This current forms a constant aroma that embodies and invites
all in its path, but is forever Parisienne.

The spirit of Parisienne is like an old suitcase for a truly chic lady traveler.
The make is of no concern, it is beautifully crafted of dusty worn leather
and has stamps from its exotic destinations, some a bit faded, while others
are barely visible. You see it has made loops around this world, but holds its
true refinement so steady. It has a classic origin, a history, a charm, but is a
persuasive individual of its own. I take this suitcase, this experience around
the world with me and place it at my doorstep upon my return to my own
city of New York, where the experience Parisienne also lies.

There is a jazz bar in Brooklyn I go to on weeknights. I can sit and
have an aperitif and watch the smoky shadows of its mysterious interior.
I can tap my Tribute heel to a beguiling rhythm and the room melts into
the one I was once in St. Germain. A beaten bar beneath the street,
one you would never find, but you are inexplicably led to by chance.
A night of dancing and vin rouge, an evening so unforgettable and
one you blissfully remember with such simplicity.

Seated in front of a steamy cafe au lait at Balthazar in Soho in the
early morning winter copper haze. The place is nearly empty save
for an early bird businessman and maybe some writers of sorts. It is easy
to slip into this moment and enjoy the soft sights in the antiqued mirrors.
It is effortless to lose yourself and look through the glass and set your eyes
on a calm morning in Le Marais.

The experience Parisienne is busy with the beat, loving and longing, a fragrant
air that twirls a charmed life together.