For Victor Hugo and Antoine Saint Exupery. For Balzac. For Flaubert and his wonderful “ Madame Bovary”.
For Teilhard de Chardin and his progressive mind and heart. For Descartes and his method. Because Voltaire was french. For Focault and his Queer Theory. For Pascal and Irigaray. For Jean Paul and Simone’s love. For existentialism. For so much wisdom. For curiosity.
For Cezzane and his immense influence. For Degas. For Matisse, Monet and Renoir. For the Duchamps, and my admiration for them.
For the overturn of the Emperors and what that taught us. For the French Revolution and the Human Rights Declaration. For May of 68. For the spirit of freedom that you injected to the world.
Because you are the City of Lights and that will never change. For the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. For the Rhin. For Le Marais. For the Grand Palais and Louvre. For the colorful Pompidou. For Champs Elysees and Versalles.
For Givenchy and Coco. For Christian Dior and Jean Paul Gaultier. For Yves Saint Laurent. For Louis Vuitton.
For The Pink Panther and the Little Prince…for Cyrano de Bergerac. For Martin Romaña and Octavia de Cadiz. For Inés del Alma Mía.
For Lumiere and his cinematographer.
For Jean Luc Godard and Truffault.
For Bridgitte Bardot and Alain Delon. For Catherine Deneuve and Gerard Depardeu. For Marion Cotillard.
For “Leon” and “Nikita”. And for “Of Gods and Men”. For “Amelie”. For all french cinema and of course for the Cannes Festival.
For Alain Duccaisse and Pierre Hermes. For Laduree.
For champagne and for wine too.
For the fallen.
For those who died defending their truth even when I don’t share it.
For my friends.
For all the ones that I am forgetting.
For those who were heroes and those who couldn’t be.
For the ones who left and the ones are not here yet.
For all of us who are crying.
For the fear that they can’t ingrain on us.