I have awoken.
From the dream where I lived a top a hill overlooking Aix- it's majestic cathedral, winding maze-like cobblestone streets and it's 10 pm purple sunsets, frogs singing from underneath the poppies.
Where every morning I could say say hello to Cezanne's inspiration, Mount St. Victoire. The cascading mountain towering majestically over the city. The same mount that I decided to spontaneously climb to the top of one Saturday morning, two new friends at my side, one french speaking and one not. We didn't follow any path, in fact we took "the road less traveled" but still managed to reach the ethereal cross perched upon the highest peak- stumbling and laughing all the way.
From the dream where I lived a top a hill overlooking Aix- it's majestic cathedral, winding maze-like cobblestone streets and it's 10 pm purple sunsets, frogs singing from underneath the poppies.
Where every morning I could say say hello to Cezanne's inspiration, Mount St. Victoire. The cascading mountain towering majestically over the city. The same mount that I decided to spontaneously climb to the top of one Saturday morning, two new friends at my side, one french speaking and one not. We didn't follow any path, in fact we took "the road less traveled" but still managed to reach the ethereal cross perched upon the highest peak- stumbling and laughing all the way.
I have awoken - from long hours that seem to pass all too quickly in the cool, historic IAU building. My vivacious, curly haired professor speaking only in the fluid, musical french that I longed so much to be able to imitate.
From the markets where the fruits and vegetables were a work of art all on their own. The hosted wine tastings and the evenings spent sipping euro Rosé in the lively Place de La Madeline.
From the day trips to Le Luberon and Marseille, where I journeyed through gorgeous country villages and marveled at a Medieval Chateau. Where I tasted delicious yet fishy bouillabaisse and even saw a real live Centaur galloping along Vieux Port.
I've awoken from the time spent on the Mediterranean Sea, a paradise, La Domaine de La Mer- where salty air kissed my face and sunshine browned my skin. Where I witnessed and was awed by the jagged calanques jutting out from azure waters. Where I sped through choppy waves on a boat captained by another new friend, the water weighing down my clothes but the experience making my heart feel light and jubilant.
In reality though, none of it was a dream- it all happened. Yes, I've returned to the states...Yet, I still feel as though I truly have awoken.
Awoken to the "Joie de Vivre" that the French lifestyle emulates. To people, to culture, tastes, sounds and rich experiences that I will never forget.
Provence, you stole me from my comfort zone, you pushed me to my limits, you made me take risks and spend nights dancing under starry skies. You reminded me the importance of cutting through boundaries and welcoming the unknown with open arms. You inspired me to let loose, yet challenged me to make mature decisions- you taught me the imperative balance of work and pleasure.
In Provence I wasn't just living, I was utterly, completely and joyously alive.
In reality though, none of it was a dream- it all happened. Yes, I've returned to the states...Yet, I still feel as though I truly have awoken.
Awoken to the "Joie de Vivre" that the French lifestyle emulates. To people, to culture, tastes, sounds and rich experiences that I will never forget.
Provence, you stole me from my comfort zone, you pushed me to my limits, you made me take risks and spend nights dancing under starry skies. You reminded me the importance of cutting through boundaries and welcoming the unknown with open arms. You inspired me to let loose, yet challenged me to make mature decisions- you taught me the imperative balance of work and pleasure.
In Provence I wasn't just living, I was utterly, completely and joyously alive.