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I am experiencing more than I can account for.

I woke up by the bells of the Notre Dame (and police sirens, always the police sirens, Paris smells like piss and is cronically whining, of course I love her)

The bells of Notre Dame.
Those long curtains.


Stumbled out of bed and crossed the street where I am now drinking my cofee americano, staring out the windows


Yesterday I tried to get it at the climate summit conference center but I was denied acces. Lots of journalists and public in general was denied acces.
All of the helicopters.
All of the check points.
All of the police
(I hear we should be able to get in today. I also heard (from my spies that could get inside) that the danish prime minister was in a meeting saying that denmark will fight for green energy, telling everybody that he loves the climate sooo much. He says that with one hand while with the other hand emposing huge taxes on every green technology available, that lying cheating motherfucking bastard)
In the train back to Paris I fell into conversations with a human rights activist from Marooco (who was also denied acces).
I think she was a lawyer, she looked like a lawyer, she said the climate issues is a human rights issues because what we see now is cooporate ecocide and humans have a RIGHT to an evironment to live in.
It was such an interesting conversation.

Later that day I attended one of the daily briefings in one of the activists camps where I ran into Charlotte Du Cann who is a friend from the Dark Mountain network, she has other friends so suddenly I´m drinking beer with Rob Hopkins (kind of spokesperson for the transition town network) and Alexis Rowell (coordinator at the civil society mobilisation organisation here in Paris)


I end up eating vegan indian food with the whole transition town team.
Alexis tells me about the Paris attacks in a way I have never heard about the Paris attacks before. He had friends there. This whole society still in chock.
And then home to bed.
And then waking up to the sound of the Notre Dame.

So, as I said, I am experiencing more than I can account for and I cant help relate this experience of Paris with my life in the woods.
When I think of this blog for instance… my reflextions, my inner life, these teutonic plates within me, moving very slowly and now this, a hectic city, I experience more than I can account for, I EXPERIENCE MORE THAN I CAN ACCOUNT FOR and I wonder if that means that my life in the forest in boring?  I wonder if my life in the forest is better or worse and BAM there I am relativising everything, judging everything, giving everything numbers and you know, that´s something you do in the city. It´s an urban activity. I guess I can love it here and at the same time be very scared. I guess I can take this in without taking anything else out.
Don´t you think?

I don´t know.

This croissant is good.
This french waiter smiles to me
The first boy I ever loved was french, I was on a camping trip with my family, we never spoke a single word to eachother, our parents tried to make us,  we were to shy, so we sat very still for three days at the bench, beside eachother, not saying a word, I loved him OH so much.
This stream of consiousness.
That bridge on the other side of the road, those locks of love, that poster.

4 comments on “More than I can account for

  1. Benedikte Exner says:

    Yes, I think that you – and we – can love it here and be scared at the same time. I think that you and we can take in a lot without taking anything – or at least not everything – out. Travelling through many worlds.. Thank you.


  2. wazmn says:

    Dagens ‘must read’.
    Herlige indtryk, og udtryk.
    Keep’em comin’ !!


  3. Dear andrea
    The situation there makes it difficult to be effective unless you are tweeting nonstop and plus have wings and a suit of invisibility so you can instantly be where the action is; but I would like you all to implore for SUBSTANTIVE change.
    Your danish pm and our prez–These MFs inside the important meetings (and all the corporate mr deathstars and their 20bn pledge) don’t mean to do jack. But how to hold their feet to the fire? They will have jetted away leaving the milling proles back in the dusty Paris streets by the time I post this.
    Be effective somehow before you go home–
    ~ Abigail

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Are you staying on the Left Bank? (Rive Gauche?) It also looks just like the 400 year old hotel we stayed in on the Ile de al Cite. Oh la la.

    I love the kid with the sign “People Change Not Climate Change.” It says it all.


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