The city is the art

The world works in mysterious and unpredictable ways. Fortunately there are a few constants that we can always rely on. Without fail, travel has the subtle yet powerful ability to highlight those timeless, uplifting, universal truths - tomorrow will always be a fresh start, someone somewhere in the world is inevitably facing struggles similar or greater to yours, and you are fully in control of your own life and how you spend your time. Travel is fatal to prejudice and narrow thinking of all kinds. It expands our world and opens our minds to ever greater possibilities. It encourages us to harken back to a different time, whenever that may be; our own version of history, infused with foreign and familiar impressions that give us courage and unleash our imaginations. An ever-present unifying force becomes more tangible when  we immerse ourselves in a new place, a new people, a new part of the world. We remember to appreciate our commonality  with one another, while celebrating difference. To me, the profound effect of travel can only be described as magical. 

I traveled to Paris for the first time this past weekend. It's a beautiful city filled with mesmerizing people. As we walked the cobblestone streets, popping into shops and pausing at cafés, I knew I was surrounded by an unparalleled aesthetic; one that only an entire culture of keen artistic eyes could cultivate, but one that is far superior in it's sincerity. Every Parisian falls into his or her place seamlessly, each flower and building and car plays its role in the work of art that is Paris; a city that is itself a masterpiece. 

This dramatic, wildly over the top description of Paris's beauty is seemingly an exaggeration. But it isn't to me. Because that is my Paris and it is unlike anyone else's Paris. It is based on my experiences, my history and my understanding and preferences and expectations. Perception is reality. And I choose to see the beauty.