Junie's monologues of travel adventures & daily humdrums



and . . .

0 comments


the front of my building

And dot dot dot. thats how my life feels like at this point. Some of you might already know, I have transplanted myself yet again; yanked my half grown roots out of dubai and air-freighted my perishable body to paris and am in the process of attempting to plant it on a 7th floor apartment on boulevard raspial with no lift. well what comes after this is a true mystery, unknown to all, waiting to unfold, thus the dot dot dot. I believe i am now at the first dot. Freshly plucked, still disoriented, still in disbelief and shock; when i do arrive at the last dot, i am hoping the surroundings will appear a little more real to me. (well i better believe it damnit, cuz ready or not, i have to snap out of it, sink in and work it like a big girl!)



Anyway, this apartment, which gilles lovingly calls ' our nest' is cute. small and cosy, tastefully furnished and delightfully quiet. The living room windows faces a small courtyard and the kitchen's little skylights faces one of the largest cemetery in paris; the montparnasse cemetery. Here in their resting places are france's great personalities, writers, sculptors, artists; the artistic and intellectual elites; one of which is the french philosopher Jean-Paul Sarte who wrote scholarly and fictional works that popularize existential theory.

the entry way


At my new nest, the living and the dead are placed side by side in their respective quarters seperated by a low wall. This farcical situation seems to mock those alive, in their futile effort to run against time, in their desperate search to live life to the fullest they nevertheless will , slowly but surely wind up horizontal on the side of my famous dead neighbours.
C 'est la vie . the cycle of life as it is. Ashes to ashes dust to dust. We know the impending doom,
the inevitable end , yet we try to shut the timer off, choosing to ignore it and pretending our pleasures go on forever. Mortality always catches up with us, whoever we are, however much we are missed. At the end of the day a tombstone will mark your short existence on earth ; Living neighours will occasionally visit and ponder their own short-lived existence on earth but elsewhere, the fast rhythm of the city continues forgetting the quiet quarter the non-living. Well not me, I will be reminded everytime i look out of the stairwell window.

Im not complaining, its a good thing to be reminded that your time on earth is limited isnt it? well i think so.


entering the apartment



Darn! this post is meant to be light hearted!!! pardon my indulgence in melancholy dear readers.
On a much lighter note, the place i live in is lovely. Gilles and I got off to a beautiful start, with a housewarming party and walks ard the neighbourhood; climbing 7 flights of windy stairs everytime we forget something is no joke. i got almost got killed once in my attempt to climb the intensively waxed stairs in high heeled ankle boots with slippery soles of zilch grip.





gilles pretending to make a cocktail for the camera



I guess then i have no choice but to exercise. Nice toned derrière, here i come!



gilles pretending to drink from a glass for the camera



me on the right side of my nest


our downy bed


the birds









About me


  • Travel blog of Junie
  • A design-lover who also loves to create, I blog about inspirations and beauty that i come across in my daily life.
  • My profile

Last posts

Archives




click to go to junieang.com

Currently looking for design employment! beep me if u know someone who knows someone!



Links


ATOM 0.3





Paris Weather

Click for Paris, France Forecast

Singapore weather

Click for Singapore Payalebar, Singapore Forecast



<