AI Tango
I'm standing next to a man, each of us holding a glass of El Enemigo. Mine is half empty, his half-full. He's a bit t...
Travelogue
Eye of the Day
It is almost impossible to walk into a Parisian bar and not partake in spirits—just as it is impossible to resist the...
The Jester is Dead, Long Live the Fool!
I found myself back in Paris, standing in one of the many antique shops on Rue Saint-Paul, staring at an old Tarot ca...
Stay Strange
Bewitched by The Lady and the Unicorn tapestries at the Musée de Cluny, I went “medieval” and headed northeast of Par...
To My Only Desire
The phrase "come to your senses" is usually offered as a call to reason. But Charles Bukowski's line—"Some people nev...
From the Underworld to the Louvre: A Soliloquy on Pleasure
Aesthetic gluttony may as well be a cardinal sin. The Louvre, like an all-you-can-eat buffet, is simply indigestible ...
The Painter and the Emperor — Centaurs of History
If there’s such a thing as a Cubist painting in words, it must be Gertrude Stein’s 1923 poem “If I Told Him: A Comple...
Shattered Mirrors and Syncopated Truths
Have you ever had foie gras de canard on toast with a bit of fig jam? It’s an unctuous pâté with a deep, savory richn...
The Sphinx Puzzle — Eroticism and Death
Some mysteries exist undeniably, yet defy full explanation: gravity, consciousness... and eroticism — that magnetic f...
On Versailles, Kidney Stones, and Dissonance
I never cared much for the Palace of Versailles — all that suffocating excess topped with swarms of tourists. It’s li...
A Journey Through the Visible and Invisible Conciergeries
With caffeine still buzzing in my veins, I was about to enter a place where history lingers not for hours but for cen...
Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death — Coffee Houses and Revolution
Parisians may protest — I don’t care — but Rome has better coffee.
The downside (or upside, depending on your tempera...