I rose this morning brooding, thinking about what may come in the near future.
My second autumn in Paris dashed by and old man winter and an uncertain future are fast-approaching. For almost ten years prior to arriving at the French capital, I measured my time by Capitol Hill's legislative sessions and the 2-year election cycle. With university life, I pace myself freely and according to exams, weekends and travels, paper deadlines, revolutions won and hopes unattained, intellectually challenging and sometimes intoxicating conversations, and the validity of my French visa.
My second autumn in Paris dashed by and old man winter and an uncertain future are fast-approaching. For almost ten years prior to arriving at the French capital, I measured my time by Capitol Hill's legislative sessions and the 2-year election cycle. With university life, I pace myself freely and according to exams, weekends and travels, paper deadlines, revolutions won and hopes unattained, intellectually challenging and sometimes intoxicating conversations, and the validity of my French visa.
Perhaps it is the season, or that my current mood tells me I have very little to trust the world about . . . the sweeping breeze, the hunchback lady by my neighborhood pub whose outings to the corner store are measured in painful steps, or just the inexplicable sentiment that all things in my life seem unsettled . . . the head is unhappy today.
The father (extreme left) playing for his university rugby club in Taipei
I never sorted out how to talk to the old man before he passed away, but having this photo around helped.
