|Notre Dame's rose window - facing the Seine|
|Some of Notre Dame's many gargoyles|
And now, for something completely different, as the Monte Python boys used to say. I probably won't be writing a daily poem from Paris, but my sister asked me to blog, so I thought I'd write a note or two.
Practically the first thing we say upon arriving in this vibrant city was Notre Dame Cathedral. What was the Gothic mind like? Looking at the jagged spire, the gigantic rose window, the flying buttresses and gargoyles everywhere, I would say "complex." The Gothic mind was complex. Messy, even. Each facade of the building looks completely different. But all show the same wear--I guess a few hundred years takes its toll. The gargoyles are gradually turning into pillars of shapeless stone, pigeon perches. Someday the exterior of Notre Dame will be worn smooth. The centuries washed away.
Well, in this town, great architecture is a dime a dozen. There are magnificent buildings everywhere. And you can look at most of them seated in a sidewalk cafe, fighting off the brazen English sparrows sparring with you for your food. It's an athletic endeavor here, in Paris.