Paris - The Medici Fountain- Jardin du Luxembourg—-
Paris is a heady rush: the feeling you get when the earth drops out from under you when eyes meet and lips turn upwards in unison.
There is a heaviness that is etched in its architecture, a solemnity of the inevitable without any consequence because history lingers like trailed off sentences in tones reserved for late night confessions.
Paris sweeps you off of your feet: a lover so tragically beautiful on the outside while teeming on the inside with fleeting nostalgia-laced promises of a distant, yet familiar infinite.
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This is the Medici Fountain in the Jardin du Luxembourg. It was built by Marie de’ Medici in the 1630s. Marie de’ Medici was the second wife of King Henry the IV of France and the mother of King Louis the XIII of France. She was embroiled in quite a bit of mistress drama with one of Henry’s mistresses, Catherine Henriette de Balzac d’Entragues, Marquise de Verneuil and ended up with a not-so-favorable view in the public eye due to various political intrigue.
This particular incarnation of the fountain came into being during the 1800s after it underwent a restoration after spending many years in disrepair. The statues in the center represent Polyphemus discovering the lovers Acis and Galatea which was a popular story represented in art throughout the centuries. It’s a tale of love and jealousy.
I came across this fountain on the last day I was in Paris. It took my breath away as so much did during my 9 day visit but I was already completely in love with Paris at that point. I fell hard within the first few days and it was a never-ending blush on the skin and butterflies in the stomach after that.
I had an interesting conversation on my Twitter earlier today about the differences between Paris and NYC when it comes to initial visual and emotional impact. One of my open-ended conclusions was: “NYC is harder to fall in love with at first sight. Paris sweeps off the feet. NYC woos.” And while I think I need to think about this some more on subsequent returns to Paris, there is some truth there.
Paris does sweep you off of your feet.
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