Days 2 and 3: Dark Days in Paris

I was walking from Pont des Arts to Quai du Lourve when I noted that my ridiculous amount of walking does let my mind wander, and perhaps that's why I have needed to write so much. Inevitably, my minds wanders toward cars, so I sit down and write a few pages on my thoughts of nations and how cars reflect the essence of the nation where they are produced (totally random and probably total BS).
This is a prime example of this weird writers disease I have gotten. I have been writing about all sorts of random things. I even wrote about watching McGyver in French, the hotel wallpaper (it reminded me of Oscar Wilde’s dying words: “My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go” in the end he had his way, the hotel he died at has been redecorated and his works live on, but I still love that quote), French designers, several Café’s, and a piece on the Monet works at Momartonn (which is an awesome museum that I highly recommend). The first impressionist piece he produced is there: the Impression, Soleil Levant with its angry red sun and grey ghost ships. They also had his Wisteria from 1920 that serves as ample evidence that abstract and minimalism was just around the corner. They also had five painting from his red period that look nightmarishly like mutilated (and bloodied) version of his paintings from Giverny.
I also decided that I should design my own clothes, because I wasn’t happy with what I have seen here. This is mainly because I totally was right about the velvet jacket trend, but I am not very happy with what the designers have done with it. Do not worry; I have now I have now written this idea off as foolishness.