If you can believe it, I disappeared over the past few days to Paris, France. Yes, that Paris, France: land of unconscionably good baked goods, storybook architecture and head-shakingly beautiful women. Since my father now lives there, I’ll be visiting fairly often (even if my last trip there was nearly a year ago), which poses a semi-interesting question for blogging purposes: should I even bother posting about a trip to a romantic locale when those trips are common-place enough to be not particularly romantic? It wouldn’t seem to make for particularly good reading if I did, which is part of the reason I didn’t even bother to leave a ‘Gone to France’ post last Thursday afternoon, when I flew out.
Below: French doodles. A selection of drawings from my trip.
I have another few dozen photographs I took on this trip, which, like last year’s batch, will find themselves onto my Flickr account before too long. Some of them I like a lot, but none of them are particularly revelatory. I also did some sketching, well, a little bit of it; after visiting an exhibition of Jean Cabu’s Parisian satirical comic art, it inspired me to sit down on a Left Bank bench and doodle for a bit. I didn’t do enough of it to really mark any kind of turning point in my disappointingly prolonged estrangement from drawing, but I had fun. Next time I go, maybe I’ll do more.