Eerie. And I still get the chills when I remember. It will be two years in June. I was staying at this apartment. We were on the way back from the opening of the Venice Biennale and my friend H had proposed we spend a few days in Paris at his family home. It was the beginning of the summer season and I wasn’t busy so I thought it would be a great break. I was exhausted from spending so much time on the road already but I love Paris too much to say no.
And one night, after having a bit too much wine and too much Parisian haziness, we sat in the living room, overlooking the Trocadero, it was so late and warm. I remember we hang there, lights out, smoking by the window. It was almost surreal, with this 18th century decor around us. And my friend looks around, then looks at me and says “You know I only own half of this place, don’t you?” and I wasn’t surprised, I knew it was one of his family properties abroad so I didn’t think much of that question. But then he had this sadness in his eyes and said to me “It also belongs to his ex wife, my sister”. And H didn’t have to say more. I knew who he meant because I had heard the stories, even though we had never spoken about it. It was something everyone knew but we never said out of respect. Because many of them were genuinely afraid of what people would think of them.
And I sat there, in the balmy Parisian night, suddenly realizing that once, this man had a family and children. And I was sleeping in his daughter’s bedroom. And that’s all I can think about now.
For the past decade and a half I have been making all my content available for free (and never behind a paywall) as an ongoing practice of ephemeral publishing. This site is no exception. If you wish to help offset my labor costs, you can donate on Paypal or you can subscribe to Patreon where I will not be putting my posts behind a lock but you'd be helping me continue making this work available for everyone. Thank you. Follow me on Twitter for new post updates.