The Look

Montmartre - Paris, July 2013

Montmartre – Paris, July 2013

The most powerful word I heard, was the look in his eyes…

I reached the very famous Montmartre area in Paris, many years after my first visit. I wondered if it would be the same, or if it has also fallen into the trap of change… like me! I also wondered, if that place will revive a few memories that may have perhaps been buried in the bottom of my past. I was convinced, that if I have built memories the first time I came, traces would be remaining and will recur, as vital as the day they were born, for memories are born to live.

My feelings were like a ghost emerging from the past, but instead of being covered with a fluffy white dress, they were wrapped with colors, layers and layers of vibrant and lively colors. At this point, I was sure that a part of me had never left that place initially, but had found a safe haven with artists in the streets, eating from their brushes, drinking from their paints, and sleeping in their canvas. The only word I could speak was a smile, and I spoke a lot! Have you ever talked to a painting? Have you ever heard the stories it tells, silently? I did! Beautiful stories with no titles at all, paving the old streets of Montmartre with loads of words. Every letter was echoed by the pedestrians’ footsteps. I could walk for a long time, and put up all the titles I want. But instead, I decided to follow the sound of music.

I found myself in the middle of a crowd, where people were all gathered around a magical colorful piano made of wood. Here is another element that can revitalize your imagination! You can almost instantly start thinking about the history of that piano, where it came from, to whom it belonged and how it found its way to the streets. Maybe it never belonged to anybody, for music is the property of everyone.

On that piano, a boy was sitting. He was playing a music of its kind, that transcends the boundaries of your soul and touches your entire existence. This tableau is not an amplification of reality, but is reality itself; a symptom of life. The music he played was like a trumpet inviting people to celebrate magic and beauty. How inspiring this was! I remember not wanting to leave this arena as I could not imagine a better place to be!

I was listening to his fascinating song, embracing every sound. I listened… until suddenly, I saw a man!

And just like you answer a call by your name, I turned around and looked in his direction, as if his eyes were calling me. It is utterly strange to believe that such a coincidence is possible in the presence of a mass of people; rather, it is more normal to think that this was an actual call coming from that man to me in particular. Is it? Maybe! This question will remain unanswered as we’ve only spoken the language of silence. Although strangely enough, it is the one I understand the most. His gaze was so powerful, so magnetic, that it pulled me out of the musical cosmos, and handed me over to the stars. You can imagine the sparkles created by the collision of the eyes, as if they were lost for so long before the reunion. What triggered this silent conversation? I never knew… until the music stopped.

The boy finished playing the piano and to my surprise, stands-up, turns around, and greets the man. How could I not realize, that the boy was there the whole time?! How could I not realize that the only connection I had with this man is the boy and his music?! How could I not realize that the man and I met in that cosmos, where only the spirits freed by music breathe?!

After a brief conversation between the two, the man prepares to go. He fades away, slowly, with his dog. To my surprise, he turns back again, looks at me one final time… and disappears!

I was not ready to go… yet! I saw the boy preparing to go away himself, and I decided to follow him, perhaps he would lead me to another cosmos, where another enchanted World could probably exist. We reached “Les Abesses” station, and suddenly, he felt my look. He could not but be invaded, just like I was when his “friend”, the man, looked at me. He stood-up again and walked farther from me. At this point, and it’s only at this point… that I decided to go.


2 thoughts on “The Look

  1. Ouf Lara! So intense! Reading your blog made me want to write again. You have a strong way of relaying deep emotions in the simplicity of words. Please don’t stop writing 🙂

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