#markets
It's Friday, yay! The final weekday of my academic immurement.
On Friday nights we go out - we’re up late - so late that it’s early,
but it’s ok, we’re young and dumb.
But if you think you’ll find me sleeping in on a Saturday morning - you’d be wrong.
On the weekends, the richest part of Paris mornings involve neighborhood street-life - which are invitations to sensory abundance - and it all happens before lunchtime.
The sensorial joys of the “sun‑south” flower market stalls, overflowing with fresh lavender, peonies and powdery‑sweet Violet blooms - tulips from Holland and roses from Kenya - that cool the air with fresh fragrances compete and mingle with savory baking aromas from local boulangeries (bakeries).
The dueling scents define mornings in the Marais (ivy-clad streets) and along the Seine.
Hit the snooze button and you can miss it (and trust me, napping later can be fun).
.
.
A song for this:
Young And Dumb by The Bird and the Bee
under the milky way by the church
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 9:54 AM UTC
color
blank
color
a white sheet of paper
to some,
intimidating
to others,
an inviting canvas
sharpies lined up
in a rainbow
hand picked
and thought out
by ink-stained hands
blank
then a line
what a miracle
the marker is
to create
with nothing
but the turn of a wrist
drag it along
with your rainbow of colors
and create
perhaps a red penciled rose
With few of blue
and thorns of green
or maybe
a cerulean sea
turquoise waves
white froth
emerald turtles
and golden sand
or possibly
a boy
with ashen hair
and icy eyes
rose petal cheeks
and baby-soft lips
create
something beautiful
colors
and dreams
create
blank
create
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 11:10 PM UTC
Look
Feel
Sequence
Ratios
Forming the spiral
Beauty found well within nature
Conscious and unconscious patterns forming everywhere
Support and resistance levels formed around fear and greed of people in markets
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
The festive season is here,
And shoppers busy on their feet,
Are looking for bargains
At every corner of the street.
The lantern-sellers stand,
Right outside the market square;
Trying to entice passers
To buy their curious tinsel ware.
If during this time, you chance
Upon this bustling way,
The sparkling lights and lanterns
Are sure to brighten up your day!
Some of the glittering objects,
That decorate the stalls,
Seem to mesmerize the shoppers
As they step into the malls.
Articles of myriad colours
And lanterns that disperse rainbow light
Decorate the city streets
All through the joyous night.
I rushed to the market square
To see what I should buy
And found a brilliant lantern
That caught the fancy of my eye.
I made a quick bargain
And now that lantern adorns my door,
And it really dazzles me
When it mirrors in the floor.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
Sewer stained,
The street, the pavement an so to
Soak the shoes
Born torment twice and a recurring
Tap upon back;
This slipper, a signature
Succumbed suicide,
Slaughter,
An only sorrow
But lash shared millions,
To tread paths beyond barbed
And a sooner return to my
Land, or its maker –
Wards and shop,
Sweat under, sweat atop
And browed, be the animosity
As I swagger my way through
Haizhu's faceless crowd.
This is the assumption of Arcadia.
Or so she’s said and she’s right
As I witness the
Hunched backs, sea pearls
Stained-bowl rice, bow-legged dreams,
The denizens
And if only to stagger,
Come 12 more hours to shelter,
Simply shelter
And a dread named, “day,” come ‘morrow.
It’s real, as real as the sun’s rising,
As real the sun’s sweating
And as real as the sun’s setting.
So onward they go, meager and dollar
Driven, under whip and promised avarice
So that as guilty as I may be;
I’ll still buy, you will too,
He will too and she will too;
We’ll buy and assume our “Arcadia.”
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
Ripening fruit
muffled on quiet days,
the wind walks down empty rows.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC