Just after Corsica Jessica and Artus invited me to a picnic in the suburbs. We traveled outside of Paris to the most French, end-of-summer get-together ever.
People were French like crazy, so beautiful reclining in the sunlight and enjoying good food and good company.
I don't know how all the French girls have this beautiful, semi-curly hair, but I want it.
I didn't know anybody, but I made friends.
It was the home of a magazine art director, whose father was a sculptor, collagist and painter. It had been his father's home and studio.
Everything was as his father had left it before he'd died suddenly.
It was a bit sad, actually, to see half-finished projects and cobwebs in the atelier.
French lovers.
'Twas a beautiful day indeed, the best way to end the summer. This heat is but a memory now!
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