#paris letters

[speakspeak]

Parisian Dreaming this Sunday Morning.

Books to Read Before you Go to Paris | WORLD OF WANDERLUST

[andreabadgley]

I have put work away for three months. Today is Day Zero of sabbatical. I have no complaints.

[storytime-reviews]

A Paris Year Book Review

Part memoir and part visual journey through the streets of modern-day Paris, A Paris Year chronicles, day by day, one woman's French sojourn in the world's most beautiful city. The end result is more than a diary: it's a detailed and colorful love letter to one of the most romantic and historically rich cities on earth.

Rating: ★★★★

Janice MacLeod is known for her Paris Letters, letters she painted of her time in Paris and mailed to subscribers after she left her career in advertising for travel.

A Paris Year is a day by day diary of MacLeod’s experiences in Paris, from the places she goes, to the people she meets. This diary includes watercolours she has painted and photos of people and places she has been. MacLeod talks about fun encounters and shops she loves, as well as the history of people, streets and buildings of Paris. She also includes quotes, and references to history and literature, which really tie it all together.

I very much enjoyed reading about MacLeod’s experiences in Paris, and it’s always good fun to compare her diary entries to things I have also done in Paris. A Paris Year is just a short, pleasant read for anyone with interest in the city.

[taipeiwyy]

Reading is a good thing, I should've figured it a little earlier. But no time can be earlier than now. So I started reading from that day. Since I really like English and I wanna learn it better, I chose to read English books. And just until last month, I've finished my first English book --- Paris letters. It was a little bit difficult for me, not only because it was my first English boom, but also there was a lot of difficult words. I even looked for all the words I did't know. So, my book now is just like a painting book.

[qofsaigon]

I had crossed plenty off my list of unfinished business and let go of many items, such as most of my books and one of my guitars. I was ruthless. 

I knew, without knowing where I was going, that I wouldn’t need this stuff when I got there. 

- Paris Letters (Janice MacLeod)

[qofsaigon]

After feeling the weight of bag after bag heading out of my apartment, I wondered why I had bought all of these clothes. Did I buy them to bring me happiness? Did they? Not really, no. In fact, they got in the way of what I was looking for.

- Paris Letters (Janice MacLeod)

[qofsaigon]

I had made it.  Making it happened after a series of awards, promotions, and bumps in pay. Once you really made it, you were middle management. And if you were middle management, you had to go to the 9:00 a.m. daily status meetings. The status meeting was filled with projects managers, studio managers, and creative managers who had also made it.

Head mistress led the status meeting. She was like a bossy babysitter. She was on task. She was on time. She was professional. I bet if she could do anything in her free time, she would go grocery shopping or organize things or boss other people around. 

I was a copywriter, but officially I was an Associate Creative Director. This title meant I was qualified to sit in this daily status meeting so project managers could boss me around. Because I had made it. 

- Paris Letters (Janice MacLeod)

[qofsaigon]

An email. “Subject: Main Conference Room in two minutes. Don’t be late!”

The big emergency was a surprise office birthday party for whatshisname. Always awkward. Always necessary. These office birthday parties reminded me of other dumb moments in corporate daily life, such as saying “hump day” when it’s Wednesday, and “one more day” when it’s Thursday. We ask the same dumb questions: “How was your weekend? on Mondays and “Got big plans for the weekend?” on Fridays. We send a card around the agency with an envelope for you to throw in your extra bucks for the birthday/wedding/baby shower/going away gift. 

When would it end? Every time I slipped a couple of bucks in an envelope, wrote a pithy comment in a card, or sat through a sad rendition of “Happy Birthday”, I couldn’t help but sigh inwardly and think, This is not my life.

- Paris Letters (Janice MacLeod)