As my feet carried me deeper into Vieux Quebec, my heart stretched come a balloon expanding to store up the poetry. Stone was everywhere. It made up the buildings and the narrow roads, it was old and textured come a chest for guarding all the moments of the past. Standing there, surrounded by history it seemed I could reach out and truly know the ways of before. I felt as though a novel would just spill out of my heart if I stood long enough with my hand on those walls and my feet on the streets.
All I wanted to do was walk des rues with my heart wide open letting the beauty run in and then sit in a café writing to let the creativity spill out. When I walked I wanted to wander blind, just going wherever the poetry led. I ended up wandering seul beaucoup parce que les autres seemed to have a lot of plans and I didn't want to bother with a map or group discussions, although I did sometimes. I was happiest when "marche suite à mon Coeur."
The one thing that did bother me was how capitalistic and touristy Vieux Quebec has become. There are a few nice artisan shops and cafes, but there is a lot of tacky stores and even some chain fast food joints. I suppose that is just the way of our world these days, and it is poetic in its own right. The fact that this big wide world has become so interconnected is kind of beautiful. There is something to be said for being able to eat in the same restaurant anywhere in the world even if it is just McDonalds. Just being able to be a tourist is a beautiful privilege. Years ago I would never have the luxury to see another person's far away daily surroundings, now there is a whole industry supporting my desire to do so.
Tourism is interesting. All this stress to find what your looking for only to eat the food you always do and buy souvenirs that may have just been made in china. I would rather just find the poetry in a boring not well known small town than do all that, but I do like tourism when I have the option to do it my way, like this weekend when I just wandered around following my heart.
Another interesting phenomenon is that of pictures. I don't have a camera, so when everyone else is running around taking photos (like in Quebec city or on the mountain top a couple weekends ago) I just sit back and watch. I wonder if there is something to be said for getting to know people through taking pictures with them and for making mementos to remember the people who touched your lives and the places that touched your heart. I would kind of like to have something to show my mother, although I don't think anyone else would be interested. Therefore, there is a jealous part of my heart when the cameras come out, but there is another inner voice that says how lovely it is to just enjoy the moment instead of spending the whole moment trying to save the moment forever. Moments don't last you know. Adventures like this teach you that. You make friends, you fall in love with places, you collect beautiful moments, but then they are over and you can either try to hold on to them with pictures and stay in touch through Facebook and email, or you can accept that sometimes the beauty is in the fleetingness of it all and sometimes Dr. Seuss is right and we really just need to smile because it happened instead of crying because it is over. There is probably a time and place for both.
No comments:
Post a Comment