Got My Eiffel Mojo Workin'
Guess which bridge? Did you get it? Pont des Arts. My photo client was fascinated to hear the story of these things, the locks, the vows, the flying keys and associated paraphernalic tryst trash, err, I mean tokens.
Forgive my cynicism, I'm getting old, and deep down I still love the idea. And I still love Lady Eiffel too. In fact, bizarrely, this photo above actually sums up my relationship with Paris pretty well: chained to the city's romantic centre through the heart of its iconic symbol. Not bad.
I heard somewhere recently that after a certain number of failed relationships ending in great pain, the part of our brain which deals with these feelings eventually says 'Sod this!' or chemical reactions to that effect and shuts down our 'soppy relationship feelings' nerve centre.
We effectively become less able to feel or express deep love through our own brains - err, that's us, right - protecting us from ourselves and our own painful emotions. Which is goooooddd, kind of, but it also makes a bit colder as well as older, which is kind of a shame.
Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this, other, perhaps, than to say that I'm trying to become aware of this and get a bit more expressive in my relationships again, after a certain chilly bitterness has set in. Which isn't much pleasant for anyone. Love ya Paris. Love ya friends and family. Love ya readers, love sloppy romantic tryst weavers, love y'all, y'hear!