I woke up to the drawl of Stevie Nicks and the smell of coffee. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, it was nice to be back home. I rummaged through my closet for a pair of jeans and my shirt that said: "matriarchy now!" in bright red. After a shower, I put them on and slipped on a pair of ankle boots and a scarf wrapped around my neck. I nodded at myself in the mirror. I don't know why but there's always a compulsion to look like you just walked off your personal runway. Parisians were unforgiving; your style, class, culture, even the way you took a drag of your cigarette, was scrutinized. Paris made me step out of my comfort zone, it was exhilarating and frightening.
I walked into the kitchen to find my grandma dancing around, her shawls twirling around her like yellow fire. Her lips were painted amber and she had a line of marigold over each eyelid. I grinned at her, my grandma didn't care what people thought of her, she dressed for herself. Her apartment was decorated the same. It was littered with paintings and records. She painted in her free time, as well as taught me about art and literature.
I grabbed a mug and poured some coffee into it, "Bonjour mammy" I sang. She opened her eyes and stopped twirling around, "Morning ma chérie". My grandma and I hummed along to the music as I ate breakfast, "What are you going to do today?" she asked. I shrugged, "I think I'll pass by the booksellers along the Seine and walk around le Quartier Latin." She nodded and then smiled, kissing me on the cheek. Her kiss staying on my skin even after she has moved away. Taking a paintbrush out of her hair she disappeared into her studio, followed by an auric light to paint scenes as vibrant as herself. She had been living here for years and years.
Once I finished breakfast I put everything in the sink to soak, grabbed my coat and headed out. As I stepped out onto the streets I felt a confidence spike in me. No one here knew who I was, so today here I could be anybody. There was something thrilling in that- visiting a place where your actions held no consequences because no one knew your name. Once I stepped outside those doors I was no longer even my mammy's Cherie, I was nameless and free each day to find new colors and be anyone's and no one's Cherie.
