There was tea that I don’t really know, and it was good.
There were perfectly fitting brown pants and contrasting dark purple shirt. Flannel, I think? Not always some fabric easy to pull off. But it was.
And then there was Vivaldi — no longer the Vivaldi I find extremely boring and simply sneer at. Stravinsky said that Vivaldi wrote a same piece “four hundred times,” and I couldn’t agree more, and then Max Richter transformed that.
Thanks to brown pants and purple shirt that this Richter re-composed (as is so stylized on the album cover) Vivaldi’s Four Seasons was introduced to me. For that I’m grateful.
I want more of all the above. And just as always, the demand curve doesn’t determine the supply curve.
Paris for me is no longer the same. Is it of my good fortune?