My son Jackson shot the Grande Square at night. This is the square that Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine stumbled together 150 years ago, more than a bit intoxicated. It’s beautiful day or night and one can well imagine them, crossing the square with fragments of poems stuffed in their pockets.
We had a great concert tonight, and celebrated Arthur’s birthday. I will write more tomorrow, It rained all day so I did not take more pictures, but I will try in the morning. And now I am heading off to sleep, satisfied that we our best for Arthur.
Goodnight everybody, I will write from the train to Paris…
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