It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written for The Straw Bag. In the meantime, I’ve been trying to figure out my place in Paris and it seems like I’ll be here for the next six months. Baby’s got a brand new end-of-studies internship as a copywriter and an extension on her lease.
In all honesty, I’ve found my integration into Paris to be somewhat gentle and comforting, above all eye opening. It’s scary to put that in writing—nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop, obviously—but it doesn’t always have to be that way. In my arrival newsletter, I wrote about my outlook on Paris (or any other city for that matter) as a living, breathing entity; one that recognizes tokens of appreciation as a way to say thank you. These tokens can be as grandiose or as small as you’d like: a well-chosen outfit for a walk, a passing smile to a stranger, or a fleeting snapshot of the sunrise right before the descent into the metro. I believe every word I wrote and have spent the past four months striving to embrace the city by offering daily acts of gratitude while navigating its challenges with a quiet grit.
For the first time in a while, I finally feel in a rhythm of my own. The days are not perfect, but perfection does not exist. Perhaps this understanding is why the flow remains uninterrupted and, when briefly disturbed, able to return to a regular cadence.
Exams ended and I returned to the big ol’ world of work earlier this month, slightly jarring but inevitable and welcomed. Work these days feels far from bleak—getting to write and strategize daily is a far more fulfilling challenge than the job I had before my Master’s program. But still, to balance out the capitalism, it meant bringing back something creative and tactile. Enter ceramics.
In mid-January, I stepped back in a studio for the first time since 2023 to attend Lucia Mondadori’s ceramics workshop, and I loved every minute of it. Shaping an earthly reality not based on perfection, but for stability, strength, and flow of form. It was a reflection of everything I had been contemplating the past few months.
On the way there, I worried I had forgotten everything I once knew from my studio days in San Francisco. But the moment I touched the clay, it all came back—as cliché as that sounds. Not just the muscle memory, but the hours spent perched on a metal stool at a worktable, music playing, trying to figure out how to build something. And here I am now in a new city, still trying to build, shaping piece by piece, reinforcing weak spots so they hold, trusting that with time and patience, clay and life will take form.
My first summer back in California, one month before I moved to Paris, I made a playlist called “songs when u don’t know what you’re doing with your life.” I stopped listening to it once I arrived in Paris. Not that I know exactly what I’m doing with my life now, but the inspiration and turning points have rekindled an ability to dream.
New moments call for a new playlist: “the paris sessions.” Years ago, I used to make long-running compilations with no theme, no genre in common. Four-hour mixes with 55 songs, spanning an entire summer. A high school playlist created with an old close friend, spanning our entire time together until she graduated, clocking in at seven hours and 105 songs. They’re archives of everything I was listening to, each song holding a secret meaning only I know. I’m getting back into that again, creating anything I can look back on as a reminder of this defining time. The only quirk I have is grouping songs by the same artist, no matter when I added them to the playlist.
Here’s to more twists and turns at every corner.
Some favorites + recs for you:
If you haven’t watched Fallen Leaves, please sign up for MUBI just to do so (and stay longer than you expected because their film library is that good).
In November, I went to Antwerp for two days and so badly wished it was longer. The MoMu is a must-visit, as well as Cafématic, ensō, and Bakkerij Funk.
Gene Moore’s Tiffany & Co. window dressings. Floating hands, dramatic lighting, luxury woven into a surrealist backdrop.
Currently reading Didion & Babitz by Lili Anolik and eating it up like the low-key drama fiend that I am.
Thanks for reading <3 See you in the next one—hopefully sooner than later.
Interesting read as per usual! Did you happen to peruse any diamonds while you were in Antwerp (the diamond capital of Europe)? It has been literal decades since I was in that Flemish part of Belgium, but I recall an old-time restaurant/bar (that had been around for 400+ years) called Cafe Quinten Matsijs that my parents brought us to. It was so charming, the food was very hearty and filling and the owner's & staff were singing Dutch songs. My heartfelt congratulations on the Parisian Internship and apartment lease extension...when something is just destined to be...all eventually works out as it should! Continue de suivre ton coeur!