This painting is of the early morning light looking west from my bedroom window.
Before the recent terrorist attacks on Paris, I would often be awakened at night to the sounds of people making their way uphill from Place Saint George to Sacré-Cœur. My bedroom window opens onto the street which seems to be their direct route. What I miss, (or maybe don’t miss) most is the sound of revelers and the clackety-clack of suitcases wheeled by tourists across the cobblestones. I imagined these folks had just arrived on an early morning plane or train and were looking for their hotel, which might very well be the one next door to my apartment building. Once, at 4:00 am, I was awakened by three inebriated guitar players sitting, singing on the stoop just across the street.
If my eyes are open at dawn I sometimes catch the early morning light coming up on the street. There is a large street lamp mounted on our building just outside the window. At a certain moment at dawn it shuts off automatically and the ambient light that had filled the room shifts to a slightly lower but much cooler tone. It’s a very disconcerting sensation, similar in a way to when you’re sitting in a train waiting for it to depart and it starts to move. But then you realize it’s not your train that’s moving but the one next to it moving in the opposite direction.
The tourists will be back and with them the clackety-clack of rolling luggage. I won’t be complaining. I even look forward to the serenade of guitars before dawn.