He said that the perspective from that corner was magnifique. He added that no one would bother me there. I guess he assumed that the people interrupting my work to ask directions bothered me. I didn't tell him that what bothered me the most was ADVICE.
He was convincing all the same.
I took my equipment up the hill and half way down rue Lemarck without even a pre-view. At least no one was going to ask me how to get to La Moulin Rouge, I hoped.
The view was not extraordinary. He must have had a sentimental experience here, I thought, as I set up my easel between two motor cycles. I blocked out the composition with some blue paint, still wondering why.
Two male meter maids approached me. Just to spy.
Next came a woman looking for her car. She had parked it near a stairway. There are about ten that surround the great basilica on the hill. She forgot the name of the street, but remembered there were two words in it.
I looked down at her child and said.
"This is your mother?"
"Oui." She sadly confirmed.
I returned to the famous spot the following day and the day after, still wondering what was going to set my work apart from other neighborhood paintings until the Paris haze sunk and a shadow appeared which made all the difference.
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