There
was my favorite song by The Style Council on at the caffe, it was
haunting because i had listened to it a lot during my years at
university, in Florence, and i listened to it in Tehran while i was
looking after my mother. It was so romantic and expressed nostalgic
feelings. I looked out of the window while sipping at my coffee and
indulged in looking out onto the busy street from the comfort of my
armchair .... on this rainy day i was in Paris and a dream i had, had
come true......
"Empty
hours Spent combing the street In daytime showers They've become my
beat; As I walk from cafe to bar I wish I knew where you are; Because
you've clouded my mind And now I'm all out of time
Empty
skies say try to forget Better advice is to have no regrets; As I tread
the boulevard floor Will I see once more; Because you've clouded my
mind 'Till then I'm biding my time I'm only sad in a natural way And I
enjoy sometimes feeling this way The gift you gave is desire The match
that started my fire Empty nights with nothing to do I sit and think,
every thought is for you; I get so restless and bored So I go out once
more; I hate to feel so confined I feel like I'm wasting my time"
I
was sitting at a nice comfortable coffee shop where they served large
cups of coffee. It was on the Champ de Lise and i was thinking about
Mr Mallen and how he had helped me several times with my documents and
administrative issues. Mr Mallen was teaching French at a school in the
Saint Germain area. I had met him through an exhibition i did chez
Margaret organized in Momo's coffee shop round the corner . Momo's
was infront of the Adzak Museum on Rue Jon quoy ..... and Margaret was
an Irish woman who knew nearly everybody in the area because she had
lived here for the last 30 years.
She
stayed at Adzak museum's residency as a sort of multitasking directer
because Margaret had been one of the many friends of Roy Wright the
English artist and sculpter who had left the world this Container
Museum in Paris with his Sculptures and other works in it. He had died
of Cancer in 1984. He and Margaret had been close friends because Roy
spoke very little french and Margaret who was a journalist and worked
for the BBC helped him in various moments and had been the only one to
stick by him in his last days .... she knew the French language very
well and was aware of what was going on and how things were done in
Paris. It was now my fifth year here .... i had arrived in 2013 as
an artist (born in Iran) with a refugee stay permit from France. I had
lived in Italy for 23 years and my Italian residency permit which i
had acquired during those years werent valid now . The law said that if
one stayed two years without renewing the permit .... it wouldnt be
renewable. I suggest here that after a period of ten years of legal
residency in a country , there should be an automatic long term
residency or even citizenship.
When
i met Mr Mallen Barett, i was in Momo' s caffee and looking at the
exhibit of paintings there, he too had been one of the few people to
visit the exhibition .... for the occasion he was wearing a bright
purple jacket and a multicoulered pair of pants and looked like an arty
sort of person ..... later on we found out that he was organizing a
fashion show for one of his students and he managed to organize it all
with some help from the town hall in the 14th area and he got it on the
cat walk that summer ..... Mr Mallen was always open to new ideas and
was very talented , and he got things done but i thought it was a pity
that he didnt seem to have talent in making money for himself .after all
his efforts. He lived in a chambre de bon on the sixth floor of a
building close to the museum and his neighbour was Mr Coffin who was a friend of Margaret's as well.
They both were frenchmen from the same Grenoble area in eastern France. Mr Coffin was an expert in gardening and plants and he was the proud owner of a beautifully decorated appartment on the fifth floor. Mr Mallen was always involved with his many students and went off on missions as an NGO to Nepal and India .... he kindly allowed me to stay in his appartment while he was away in India.
Some
years before this i had inherited a house from my parents and had
money from selling the house . I had tried to buy a property in Paris
without knowing anyone or even speaking the language. I was staying
in a hotel in Saint Germain de Pres . I had then had to go to Spain and
buy the property there because i knew some one on the Costa Blanca who
could help me with my project. Money, Money Money was now a constant
issue on my mind, because i hadnt found any work after all these years
of living in Paris. I worried a lot about finding work but i had lived
quite well despite my poverty.
It was partly because of all the social services in Paris , i found
life quite agreeable even without having money to spend on hotels and
restraunts and infact i liked the city because i was familiar with the
way it worked . Now i had spent some years at the Muse'e Adzak and had
met many of the people who were friends of the museum.....
and
i thought about how i had been brought to Adzak Museìe because an
American friend called Barbara had told me to go to a poetry reading
afternoon. I had gone to the book shop Shakespear and Co. near the
Notre Dame church and there having met an Iranian woman who was an old
timer in Paris , i had been invited to go with her and a group of people
to Adzak Muse'e on a Sunday afternoon .....
One of the best songs by "The Style Council "
." Empty hours Spent combing the street
In daytime showers They've become my beat
; As I walk from cafe to bar I wish I knew where you are
Because you've clouded my mind And now I'm all out of time
Empty skies say try to forget
Better advice is to have no regrets; ......................
As I tread the boulevard floor
Will I see once more;
Because you've clouded my mind
'Till then I'm biding my time
I'm only sad in a natural way And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way
The gift you gave is desire
The match that started my fire
Empty nights with nothing to do
I sit and think, every thought is for you;
I get so restless and bored So I go out once more;
I hate to feel so confined I feel like I'm wasting my time "
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