Apple Blossom Cottage Juicing Edition: The Louvre

I can tell you that visiting the Louvre is nothing like it is in the movies. I have to compare it to movies because we have the tendancy to relate all things to this particular media. The movies always depict a few people looking here and there at beutiful paintings or sculputres, but it is more like a moving sea of people, and if you're not careful, all the sounds and clausterphobic feelings will close in and keep you from the Louvre's beauty. Here's what I did.

When the reality of a dreamy walk around the Louvre was shattered upon arrival, I knew I'd have to make other plans. I'd avoided the long line and thankfully had no children or luggage to pull around. I was gladly not a part of a walking tour-- those people looked like the tormented souls of Dante's Inferno.

I'd listend to Rick Steves' tour through the Louvre before entering and I'd somewhat studied a map, but the layout was still overwhelming and it took me no less than 45 minutes to walk around and get my bearings. At the end of that time I'd not even entered one of the four halls. Why should I? What had I really come to see?

Because I'd read so much about Ancient Greek sculpture, I wanted to make that my first destination. Greek sculptures are housed in The Sully. This hall became my reference point for all other destinations. In a sense the Louvre is like my Harrison School-- a pinwheel with spokes for halls. Once inside those halls though, it's easy to become lost. I stood in line for the $10 headphones and found out they were out. I had a lovely conversation with another single gal from China who was making her second visit to the Louvre and we talked about what part of the Louvre she would see. I head into the first hall and found out that my ticket was not really used to get me into the front gate but into each main hall.

I still hadn't made peace with the crowds, but I was working on it.

The cool stone and high ceiling made the air less dense around me. I wandered through, mesmerized by the faces and intricate stone work. Most stone work is carved from one piece. I've heard this all my life, but as I looked at these stone humans, I can't help thinking that maybe the White Witch really did exist. On my way out I look down into a lower floor to find a few college students resting quietly against the columns. It's probably really peaceful down there, I tell myself it's not very lady like to sit on the floor in a musee'.

I leave in search of coffee, an expresso, my first. Heidi and I had thought the idea of finding a Starbucks in Paris would be laughable and that we'd never step foot in one, surrounded by so many other cafe' bistros in Paris. Wouldn't you know the first coffee I see in Louvre Museum is none other than Starbucks! No! I will not! I will not go in! There has to be something else. Thankfully I find a cafe and ask for an expresso. I take my drink back to Sully hall, down below where I'd seen those college students. I lean against the cold stone and sip my expresso. I listen to the people. I watch tired Japanese men and women follow a Japanese speaking, French-accented Japanese man with long hair(Yes, I promise!. I look at a ten year old boy who says with his eyes he wants to be outside in a swimming pool. I hear a husband and wife negotiating who will get to see what. Everyone seems so tired and I wonder why they are here. Do they know anything about this art? Are they here because it was on a map? I close my eyes and let the voices become like the sea, waves in my ears, lapping against my cochlea. I learned this trik from Dad-- to be anywhere and find beauty, find meaning, find comfort. The waves become softer, then louder and soon I am asleep as others are also in this dark, quiet place.

I wake to a little girl trying to climb on a large boulder as her mother tells her to get down. The little girl look at me as her mother straigtens her dress and I smile. She smiles back.

I've had my rest, I've had my expresso, and now I'm ready for another go. The Louvre and I are friends. I've rested and eaten with her and now she's ready to show me the rest of the house. As I maneuver among the crowds, I'm no longer frustrated. This is my house and they are visiting-- I belong here. The audio guides are available and I spend way too much money buying one. It's worth it and it's fun. I see the Venus de Milo and I bask in her beauty, wondering where her arms are. Maybe they held on too tightly to her lover and she has lost them as he pushed his way from her bed. Maybe she was washing clothes and the current carried them away her clothes and her arms away--that would explain the missing clothes and the missing arms.

I have enough time to see Reniassance paintings. I stop at the medieval paintings first so that when I do see the Reniassance, I'll appreciate even more. The English mediavals are enjoyable, but the French renisance paintings are so full of delicate details, light and darkness, that they have me. After years of repressed truth and evil church interpretations of human living, Reniassance paintings rejoice! Awesome.

I leave this hall and wander to the top of the stairs in the pyramid. I take pictures and think about the Da Vinci Code. Fun. I've got just enough time to follow the trail signs to the Mona Lisa. As I get closer, I enter the hall full of Italian paintings. Huge, gigantic paintings, where the true to size horses are being ridden by true to size warriors or angels. Every things is large and has large full brush strokes. No intricate detail here, just grandeur. Makes me think of Italian decor vs. French decor, they are both decor but both one has tiny details, while the other has is a larger, easier version of the same.

Mona Lisa smiles at me and I punch through the mass of cameras to say hello. I can't help it, I've got to be in the front. I get there using my smile and take a picture of her (which I think is silly) and then I take a pic of all the people taking pictures of her, much better.

The Louvre and I say goodbye. She thanks me and says come again. I tell her next time maybe I'll bring my child.

Heidi and I meet at the fountain. We dip our feet in the ice cold water under the stone fountain, it's secret river cooling the hot tempers of the people. We watch a French woman and her son. The woman rubs her boys feet, dips her hand in the water and spills it onto his feet. She does this while they talk quietly and laugh together. Heidi and I touch toes and it feels like minnows nibbling in the river at home. We are together in one of the most beautiful places in the world.