It’s All Maya!

I mentioned the Cour Saint-Pierre in my post The Pope, The Dalai Lama, and Me!  It was the only time I had lived outside of the 6th arrondissement of Paris.  The Cour Saint-Pierre is a little passageway in the 17e and it was like living in a tiny village in France.

Everyone who moved into this little street around the same time that I did (early 80’s), just happened to be artists, musicians, writers, actors, and photographers.  I was the only foreigner amidst a colony of French artists. Everyone became fast friends and we were constantly over each other’s apartments and ateliers on a daily basis. During the warm weather, we would often set out tables and eat dinner together outside and talk into the wee hours of the morning, or we would have parties and dance the night away.

The passageway was off of a main avenue in Paris and during that time, over 25 years ago, the entrance into this little dead-end street was closed off by a pornographic movie theater! People passing by were afraid to venture beyond the avenue, especially at night; which was just the opposite for us! Once we turned into the passage, all the hustle and bustle of the street stayed behind us and we felt a sense of security knowing that we knew almost everyone there and someone was always home and had their door or windows open to invite us in for a coffee or a drink.

Although none of us lives there any longer, lasting frienships were made. How could we not? We celebrated birthdays and holidays together, as well as marriages, and births. And of course, when you’re talking about life, we were also there for illnesses, seperations, and deaths. Many of these people are like family, and I have watched them or their children grow into a new generation of artists; people like Geraldine and Hélène to name two.

What about me? Well, as a musician, a writer, a poet, and an artist, I became a part of this milieu as though I had orchestrated it! The friendships and the memories of great times during those earlier years still linger on. The old movie theater was torn down and an apartment building went up in its place. The hidden entrance is now open for all to see, but they built a huge iron gate forbidding anyone to enter in unless you live there. The plants and flowers are still there, but is the spirit? It was another time, another place, and it was a wonderful serendipitous moment to have lived in the Cour Saint-Pierre.

Maya Muses:  As we get older we tend to reminisce more and more.  The past becomes an impalpable dream, but one where we select mostly the wonderful moments we lived and purposely forget the pain and heartaches that were also a part of our lives.  (That is, of course, unless you’re some crazy masochist!)

Photo Credits:  The Cour and two of my drawings that I love.  (A pastel & charcoal of Sarah, a friend’s grand-daughter and a charcoal drawing, my version, of the famous Afghan Girl.  I also did a pastel drawing of the Afghan Girl, but I prefer her in black & white.  I wanted to try and capture her beautiful eyes in b&w and I think I did.)