I woke to kiss Matthew goodbye and decided to get up and stay busy to ward off sadness. I was at a beautiful hotel so I made myself a coffee, luxuriated in my robe, and treated myself to a massive dose of ibuprofen before heading out into a cloudy Paris morning. My feet were not in good shape but I decided to walk towards the Louvre and see if moving made them less painful. It turned out that walking did help.

I stopped at a café across from the Museum D’Orsay and ordered a baguette and cappuccino. I was not disappointed when they told me that they were only serving croissants. So much for trying to be virtuous. I sat outside and watched many people begin to queue up at the museum. I briefly considered going there instead of the Louvre, but I convinced myself that I would stick with my plan which would put me on the side of the Seine where I wanted to spend the rest of my day.

As I walked to the Louvre, a steady rain began to fall. I was prepared with my umbrella and I arrived after a 3 mile walk interrupted by a buttery breakfast. The morning was quiet in Paris although there were many people lined up outside the entrance to the glass pyramid. I joined the line for people without reservations. It moved steadily forward and I entered the museum about 20 minutes after I got there.

I think what impressed me most about the Louvre is the sheer scale of it. The buildings themselves are art and I appreciated each well worn marble step I climbed. I started with sculpture. The pieces are so big and plentiful, I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I sit and contemplate or move through and past as many as I could? Guess which I picked? I felt compelled to see as much as possible so I covered ground. I found myself really drawn to depictions of woman with real bodies in positions of strength. I also enjoyed all the angels (with and without) heads. Marble it seems makes me feel calm.

After I took in the sculpture, I joined the current of people seeking the Mona Lisa in the opposite wing of the museum. I had seen it before and really wasn’t all that impressed so I instead spent my time looking at the beautiful Italian art depicting the life of Jesus and early Roman life. The colors of the paintings were like a jewel box and the faces were all placid and peaceful. I really liked comparing the representations of the Madonna and child with Jesus as both baby and adult. No matter what one believes or what faith you ascribe to, the mother child connection depicted in these paintings was powerful.

In the end, I viewed the Mona Lisa from afar choosing to not stand in the winding line of tourists to approach it more closely. I actually felt sorry for her. She is subdued and dark and sad compared to the bright faces I had viewed in the other paintings nearby. Maybe she looked that way because she knew there were brightly colored saints and angels frolicking just around the corner.