Do I have the discipline and courage to find my creative voice outside the path of what I already know? -That is on my mind tonight as I sit cafe side with a glass of red wine looking out into a large courtyard of buildings where the eyes land on the the crown jewel of the square. It is a bit crumbly and craggily but a beautiful pink brick building in neoclassical design. As I sit here, with only my anxiety as company, all bundled up from the evening chill, legs crossed and head tilted askew, I consider the history of the landscape. The private conversations had while navigating the cobble stone ground. The clapping of horse hooves past, a congregation of kids on the corner huddled together as they hustle for day old bread. Not unlike the kids I saw as I drove in today. But it’s the horrors these buildings of beauty have witnessed that mystify me. Directly across from my table maybe 2 football fields away, a Saint was martyred and a Bishop’s head broken open on the City Hall steps after he was tied to the leg of a bull. There were the riots of the 1500’s, interrogations of a Protestant in a donjon below the bell tower and a decapitation of a duke in the middle of the courtyard. But right now, The Square is host to the Christmas Market where vendors sell an assortment of holiday nougats, vin chaud and winter accessories. I wonder if the wisdom gleaned from my past will fortify my future journey into the unknown. Will I still be standing crumbly and craggily too?

charismacarpenterさん(@charismacarpenter)が投稿した動画 -

カリスマ・カーペンターのインスタグラム(charismacarpenter) - 11月30日 06時50分


Do I have the discipline and courage to find my creative voice outside the path of what I already know? -That is on my mind tonight as I sit cafe side with a glass of red wine looking out into a large courtyard of buildings where the eyes land on the the crown jewel of the square. It is a bit crumbly and craggily but a beautiful pink brick building in neoclassical design. As I sit here, with only my anxiety as company, all bundled up from the evening chill, legs crossed and head tilted askew, I consider the history of the landscape. The private conversations had while navigating the cobble stone ground. The clapping of horse hooves past,
a congregation of kids on the corner huddled together as they hustle for day old bread. Not unlike the kids I saw as I drove in today. But it’s the horrors these buildings of beauty have witnessed that mystify me. Directly across from my table maybe 2 football fields away, a Saint was martyred and a Bishop’s head broken open on the City Hall steps after he was tied to the leg of a bull. There were the riots of the 1500’s, interrogations of a Protestant in a donjon below the bell tower and a decapitation of a duke in the middle of the courtyard.
But right now, The Square is host to the Christmas Market where vendors sell an assortment of holiday nougats, vin chaud and winter accessories. I wonder if the wisdom gleaned from my past will fortify my future journey into the unknown. Will I still be standing crumbly and craggily too?


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