Le 26 Avril 2009

I saw Victor Hugo’s house on Friday. It was incredible. On the second floor there was an art exhibit with elaborate paintings interpreting his writings. They also had original copies of his writings, pictures of him, and amazing sketching he did. He was incredibly talented. The apartment where he lived was on the third floor. It was so elaborate, full of heavy red curtains (over windows that looked out over La Place de Vosges, a famous garden), china, and paintings. There was one room that was done in an oriental theme. It was very cool.
I also went to the Paris catacombs. At one point I was walking in this dark low passageway which seemed more like a cave. There were mini stalactites with water dripping down from them. The walls on both sides were made up of artistically piled up bones and the floor was a mix of damp clay and pebbles. Each pile of bones had a sign saying where the bones had come from. It would be weird to be forever marked as what graveyard your bones were dug up in instead of your name. I guess that wouldn’t be as weird as people making art out of your bones for generations to come to look at and take pictures of. I did not take any pictures of the bones. It just felt too disrespectful.