I bragged that, no doubt about it, I was going to Paris to see the Hilma af Klint exhibition. Guess what? It hasn’t happened so far. That’s a lesson for the future: stop talking about things before they happen, because, if you do, it takes double the effort to achieve them. As a Renaissance spirit, as I have been called, it’s a must-see. I will probably take the plane in the morning, go and see the exhibition, have a lovely lunch, and fly back home in the afternoon. A suggestion I received in this regard was to stay at least one night, in case something unexpected happens and I need to have one night’s rest. The only time I flew back and forth in one day was to Brussels, but it was for work, and things were different at that time in my life. It was tiresome, I have to admit, and I thought it would cost less, but the surprise was that the flight itself, back and forth in one day, cost as much as one trip with two flights in two days, plus the price of the hotel, so there was no financial advantage. And I didn’t understand that the flight back from Brussels needed to make an extra stop in Strasbourg on the way back to Bucharest, which made the return flight a lot longer. In a nutshell, it wasn’t a trip to repeat in this format. This is why I am reluctant about my one-day trip to Paris, but this time it is supposed to be for another reason and on completely different terms. Honestly, I feel uncomfortable going alone to Paris, if it’s not for work. That’s also a situation I can’t imagine: going alone to Paris, even for an exhibition. Paris and I get along quite well, and it’s an identity connection. All the films that I like about Paris exclude the idea of one person going to Paris alone without working. I was at a table near Bon Marche when the waiter asked a man sitting at the next table if he was eating alone, and the answer was, “Absolument pas!”, and he looked angry at being asked the question. I said then that I was definitely going to follow this approach because I found it appropriate for the city. It was just like the fairness of the British diplomat. It simply was the right and natural thing to do. I refuse to let go of this image of Paris that has accompanied me throughout the years. I love to go to Madeleine Church and, after the sermon, stay outside, smile, and look at the National Assembly, just as I imagined George Duroy from Bel-Ami would have had George Duroy, the lovely villain of Paris. I still think of him, even though my appreciation for his style almost cost me my life in a recent episode of my life that I have a hard time getting over. When fiction becomes reality, that’s quite a test of life. And, by the way, I say that again: diplomats and former diplomats are not spies; that’s other people’s job. Or, I could just follow one of George’s pieces of advice in Paris, de prendre un congé de moi-même. I will sleep on it for a while!

We talk a lot about change, but the human being keeps the same type of model for success throughout the centuries. One of the films that I really like, even though it’s very weird, is Ariane (Love in the Afternoon). Audrey Hepburn is lovely, a genuine smartie curious about the love life of one of her father’s clients, a rich, kind-of-old fellow, played by Gary Cooper, who is chasing love and entertainment throughout the world. Their love story is somehow forced by the script, not because it wasn’t real, but because, in real life, her type of character, very young, a student at the Music Conservatory from Paris, funny, but bold and mysterious in several ways, is not, according to statistics, the type of young woman to become the love interest of an elderly American business tycoon. If Gary Cooper played himself in the film, yes, I would have accepted the story as a real one, but that not being so, that combination of characters needed a different ending to the plot, in my view. I didn’t like the final scene on the train. With a different one in the end, the film would have matched Sabrina or Holiday in Rome. Well, one cannot say that there’s no adventure when staying at the Ritz in Paris. And if it involves Americans and Frenchies, even more so.

In all films, Paris is the place to be if you want to learn cooking. It seems all cooking secrets are hidden in Paris. You are quite right. I am hungry and upset. I crave some mussels, but there is no chance of getting any, so instead I have a Kir Royal. The last time I drank one, I fell asleep almost instantly; I couldn’t keep my eyes open even with a huge effort. I couldn’t work or react normally afterwards. I needed to stop working and close my eyes for a couple of minutes, and the next problem was that I could not wake up. I simply couldn’t, and my body would just not stop telling me to go to sleep for a longer time. The only thing I felt was a huge need for seaside holidays, just to lie on the beach for hours in the sun and simply sleep. And, of course, somebody had to wake me up at the end of the day. It was the first time in my life that my body said, “No, you are not allowed to open your eyes; that’s an order, and that’s it.” My mind said, “Let’s work”; my body became bossy and answered, “No.” My brain gave the command, and my body refused to follow. Just like that. Disobedience to the leadership of the brain. And the question was: why is there a constant pressure to obey the brain? Not this time, because the body had a different opinion and threatened with the heart. The heart is the biggest threat of all. When the heart strikes, the brain is completely out of control, and anything is possible.

I guess the biggest challenge in one’s life is falling in love. You are simply in another world that has no connection to reality whatsoever. In modern times, love starts very seriously, in connection with economic aspects, most of the time. But if you fall in love with someone, you might behave in a completely incomprehensible manner to others, because, if it’s real love, it can’t be faked. It’s impossible to hide real love. There’s a saying that everything starts with money and ends with love (George Duroy would say: L’amour n’a rien à faire avec la raison. Quand le mariage est ou se transforme en partenariat stratégique, ce n’est pas de l’amour, ce sont des affaires étrangères). I’m not drinking Kir Royal anymore; only God knows what I am capable of writing under its influence. One thing is clear. The brain loses command, and there’s a high risk of love around. In my view, when love shows up, one must be in perfect order with everything, because there’s a high chance that everything will fall apart. Sometimes the heart waits too long and, when there is a love interest around, it will take its revenge on the brain. You feel as if you were struck by lightning. Stupid smiles, butterflies in the stomach, no need for food, simply not hungry anymore. Love is the best diet. Nobody cares about food anymore. Love is the most powerful feeling in the world because it completely transforms the human being, without prior notice. Contrary to what some people say, I find that it’s not hatred that is the most powerful feeling, because hate is brain-driven; love exists in connection with a chemistry that escapes the brain. Love makes the body escape from the tyranny of the brain, but it creates the biggest vulnerability ever in a human being. Love and safety have nothing in common. Perhaps this is why our species still exists. If it were just about the brain, we would not be on the planet anymore, because it makes no sense to be born knowing that one day you are going to die. If the brain were the only judge, we would never have children, because we have such high expectations of the person who’s going to be our partner.

“No more Kir Royal for you, my dear!” said the brain. “What do you say about tea for a while? If you don’t agree, I’ll transfer my responsibilities to you, heart, and go on holiday, but please don’t ask me to fix your holiday problems when I come back!” Well, that’s the brain. What could he say but the boring “stay out of trouble and avoid strong feelings”? In the end, the brain, because he wanted to remain on good terms with the person, gave a piece of advice: have fun and read books, the latter in order to solve the problems arising from fun. Well, well, how can one be upset with their own brain?

Sofia Fodor