I may have had to leave the City of Light to return home. Though calling this nomadic existence of mine home seems a bit of a stretch, 5 months and 23 days into this little experiment of mine. Back to Boston I had to return, none-the-less, and I brought more than a little light with me. Technically I had it shipped. I went intent on finding that perfect chandelier for my new space, and the Marche aux Puces did not disappoint.
I rolled out of bed in my beautiful boutique of a hotel, La Belle Juliette, you exceeded all my expectations, you were the design inspiration I didn’t even know I was lacking, you were the perfect gracious hostess, in a city that I grow more fond of with every visit, you were the breath of fresh air I needed to get across the finish line. Is it wrong to want to stay in your hotel when that sublime chaos of a Paris day awaits just outdoors. Oh don’t worry, I left to explore the markets, covered in Euro and praying I wouldn’t be robbed blind by some skilled pick-pocket. All risk taking aside, when I had scoured the Varnaison Market for the better part of the morning, purchased only one small pendant, and hadn’t laid my eyes on anything I thought I couldn’t live without, I was a tad disappointed, but just then, as we prepared to head to the next big section, Paul-Bert, I locked eyes on it. I ran in, inquired about the price – Comment ca cout?, and nearly choked back my tears. How could it possibly be that much? I was covered in a lot of Euro and still, the Euro I was covered in, wouldn’t cover it. I shuffled out with head hung low, visited another stall with jaw dropping mirrors, the likes of which all the Louis would have found ostentatious enough to out due the King that came before, and which were a mere fraction of the price of the chandelier I coveted. I was sick to my stomach over it, and it had only been a few short minutes that we were separated. What’s a girl to do. I just admitted to myself that I wasn’t leaving without it, and went back to launch a fierce negotiation with the owner, trying desperately to remember anything of use from that book I read – Getting to Yes. I’m not sure if the book helped, but he did lower the price by 1400. Euro and that was a price in which I could say YES.
I opened a Fed Ex Account, wired the cash I didn’t have on me, got that incredibly heavy box in the mail a few days later, sweet talked a few gents into getting it into my car, drove it on over to Fun Antiques in Cambridge to be re-wired, and now I just need that place to be mine so that I can proudly display this masterpiece. Just 10 more days. I can do anything for ten days. Though I did get an offer to purchase the property yesterday. I know that I don’t own it yet, but still, the very moment that I do they want to buy it. Whatever would I do with that chandelier if I sold it? It’s enormous and needs a home. Everything has a price, if it was the right one, my precious sculpture could take up residence with me at the Four Seasons. We’d survive.