Nicole Says,

I'd like to show my Mother Paris-- and Italy. We'd spend one week in Paris, then drive through the Italian country.  We'd stop in several cities; Florence also, but only for one or two nights.  The days are too busy, and I know mom prefers to be among the locals and not so much drowned in with the rest of the tourists.

In Paris, we'd walk along the Seine; I'd show her Notre Dame. We'd have a cafe everyday-- for breakfast and after lunch; we'd have a bottle of red wine every night with dinner.  Lots of baguettes. Lots of cheese. Lots of fresh fruit and vegetables.  Lots of French.

More people should learn to speak French; it truly is a beautiful language.

Mother would finally hear me use my French. I'm still very shy about that, I don't know why. I'm not very good at it, but I don't think she cares; she's proud of me regardless.

It's important that I show my Mother Paris at some point in my life because, I'd only succeeded in painting a very one-sided interpretation of the place, into which no travel guide would ever allow permission.  She should know I'd experienced Paris as a young american immigrant, a woman, a girl to most, "under-educated", "lower class", "doesn't speak the language very well"--

My Mother at least spoke English well when she'd come here to these american states.

The most difficult part about my experience in Paris was that I was alone and that I was an artist.  Artists need communities.  I had the good fortune of meeting fellow artists; it's just too bad I'd met them so late.

For anyone who comes to visit the place-- Paris is grand, Paris is romantic, Paris is Paris.

I know my Mother associates Paris with her daughter's misery.  I hope she knows that part of the reason I'd made the journey was so that I'd be able to better understand the one she'd had to undergo at a much younger age.  I do feel like I understand my Mother better now.  In this way, and after having witnessed just a glimpse of an immigrant experience, I have come to better appreciate my Mother's Journey.  This is my way of saying to Her, "I'm listening." I was deeply moved and inspired, the day my Mother said, for the first time, "I think I'm ready to go back home."


I know I don't do a good job of showing her how she inspires me; I hope now is not too late.  So before "too late" is now, I'll share a positive story with my Mother, knowing that she'll never want to visit the "land of my re-birth" if it remains only a place of great suffering.



One of the best parts of my experience in Paris was that I'd lived Paris, and without losing my personal identity, and my sanity.  I've danced in Paris; I've played in Paris; laughed, was naughty and nice; I know Paris better than I do New York.  I love Paris; I just don't like feeling alone which is something one easily slips into there.  Well, that is, some "one" like me.  It has nothing to do with the language.  There are a great number of fluent french speakers in Paris who also feel alone.

I'll never forget the day I'd called Mom from the Bois de Boulogne.  I was so happy, and only wished that I had been walking there with her.  I think she thought I was sad; and I was.  She should know that I was just as thrilled and excited as I was sad.  I'd finally arrived to the place of my dreams!  The hurt was only that I'd been alone and had no one with which to celebrate in this.

The Bois de Boulogne ("woods of Boulogne") is exactly like Central Park, except more beautiful.  There's no fence around the park, maybe that's why.  I dedicated a tree to my grandmother there.  I used to go there everyday when the weather was nice.  I lived in a beautiful area.  I literally saw le grand arc de triomphe everyday.  I literally saw le Tour Eiffel every night.


I should also take her to the Tour Eiffel; my Mother was the first person I'd ever heard to say its name in French.

I hope my Mother knows that I went to Paris to be like her, bi-cultural, and I no longer want to keep this "second" side from my Mother.  That's when I took to the camera; knowing that my Mother and I don't exactly speak the same literary language and that it might be easier for her to see the way I see the world, through pictures.  I think she can begin to better understand my Paris, if she were to actually see the place for herself, and with me as her guide.  This is how I'd come to say, "I'd like to show my Mother Paris."