Of pictures and sculptures

So despite the absence of underwear and kettles and dried fruit and all those little essentials that J needs to keep going, we ventured on.

Tuesday was Musee D'Orsay & Rodin, Wed the Louvre, Thursday Notre Dame and more piccies elsewhere...

Art overload once again. But certain things leapt out at me; the gentle hands of Rodin's Cathedral (above), the sheer eroticism of "The Kiss", the horror of his "Gates of Hell." The wonder of iron age amulets in the Cluny, the mirth that some of the reliqueries produced in both J and myself and the silence of the worship at Notre Dame, that I no longer could be part of.

So despite the continued chatter that J kept up, her everlasting worries and my occasional lapses of patience with her endless questioning (Are you sure that's the right door? Could you be wrong? Shall we ask the man?) we got on well and I apologised for my tetchiness and she tolerated it all in good part.

Her life otherwise being limited to my father and mother.

In a week, other than us, that is all she sees, all she knows. No friends, no workmates, no where to go, no one to talk to. But for one week, the horizon so much broader and with 302 pictures to dwell on, may it be something to carry her through to our next trip.

Wherever that may be...

And I so need to work on my patience! Perfect is one thing I am far from!!