Nuit Blanche

Karen, Sara, me infront of the Louvre

1er octobre was the annual Nuit Blanche Paris from 19:00h to 7:00h. We (two americans, one studying in Spain and the other in Aix en Provence) incorrectly assumed Paris' major museums would be open all night for the art celebration. Once we trudged by the deserted Musée d'Orsay and faltered in front of Musée du Louvre, we realized our mistake.

La chute des anges rebelles

Purple Rain

After the Louvre disappointment, the other two girls returned to their hotel. I was not ready to give up. Somewhere in the streets of Paris, there was purple rain. While an oily young French man followed me around wanting to drink and sleep together, I discovered the location of the Purple Rain spectacle by artist Pierre Ardouvin from a kind, anglophone french girl. "Do you want him to go with you?" she asked as she ripped the Purple Rain page out of her guide book, "No. Dont worry about it, I'll get rid of him later." Ignorant of the English words uttered, "Hakan" continued his unrequited pursuit until I exited the metro and he realized his cravings would not be satisfied by me.
At last, I found the epicenter of the street sculptures and installations of Nuit Blanche. By the time I found the Purple rain, it was three in the morning, the latest I've stayed out in months, and the line to walk in the rain with umbrellas was two hours long. Unfortunately, I also misunderstood the transportation options of the evening so instead of taking the metro, I walked home through the crowds of art lovers, drunks and jeers. During this walk I reflected, I am not a night life person… and that is ok.