Secrets of Paris: Yeti the iceman

Secrets of Paris

Yeti the iceman

Extracted from one of my Parisian Diaries 18/1/08

I walk around the chilly alleys of Paris. Runny eyes blur my vision and a r(f)unny nose, my dignity! 

A heavily patina-ted back door, nestled in the equally heavily patina-ted ancient walls that protect the orifice, creaks open and I glimpse a smoky little kitchen, gleaming gold and alive with activity and steam. 

A half-naked kitchen (scully) boy, casually saunters out to deeply inhale his own brand of smoke and rubs his hairy body with satisfaction, perspiration gluing the sleeves of his vest to his chest… Aleta Michaletos

www.aletamichaletos.com

 

 

HONEYMOON WITH MY SOUL

I connect very deeply with the thoughts of Kazantzakis.

During a 2 month stay at the Cite Internationale des Arts in Paris, during December 2007 and January 2008, I had ample opportunity to study his autobiographical 'Report to Greco'. However, there was so much to digest, that in the end it took me a full year to complete my studies of the book. 

Like the layers of an onion, any significant written piece will reveal something new with each successive reading and one is never 'done' with a book containing such depth of understanding and wisdom.

The Cite is situated very close to the Sorbonne and the Cluny Museum (where I spent days on end), and it felt even more uncanny when I discovered that I was regularly walking and lingering in the parts of Paris, with which he was also so familiar. 

 Paris  1 January 2008

I his words which I've extracted from the book (and which could just as well have been my own) Kazantzakis says:

“All my life one of my greatest desires has been to travel-to see and touch unknown countries, to swim in unknown seas, to circle the globe, observing new lands, seas, people, and ideas with insatiable appetite, to see everything for the first time and for the last time, casting a slow, prolonged glance, then to close my eyes and feel the riches deposit themselves inside me calmly or stormily according to their pleasure, until time passes them at last through its fine sieve, straining the quintessence out of all the joys and sorrows.” 

 

The other gem I discovered in this precious manuscript, and which succinctly  illustrated my exact feelings, was the description of his experience: 'I was having a Honeymoon with my Soul."