What I remember of Nice ... the little art galleries, the flower market, the bench in the Jardin du Monastere above the city where I ate a pissaladière and sketched, drinking bottles of rosé in the dark on the beach and somehow finding the way back to our horrible little hostel more than a little tipsy ...
And me like a broken record saying, "I can see myself here. I can see myself here. I can see myself here."
Another place I've ambled and admired - turned by tragedy to a tableau of a different color.
"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater."
J.R.R. Tolkien
Raoul Dufy
Open Window, Nice
