|Paris, viewed from Montmarte|
|Inside Sacré Coeur|
The architectural beauty of the church, both inside and out, is mind-boggling. Signs inside the church urge visitors to be respectfully silent, but such a solemnity, a holiness, pervades the church that the signs seem unnecessary. It is unimaginable that someone could enter such a place and be oblivious to it.
|Narrow stone street in Montmarte|
|This sculpture is, somehow, a self-portrait of the artist|
|Note the melting clock at the top of the torso, and the egg. Recurring motifs in Dalí's work|
|This sculpture is an interpretation of the Holy Trinity|
It was a full day, and I returned to my hotel footsore and tired, but feeling it was a day well-spent. I've decided that the best days are those that come to me, rather than those I have to chase. Make sense?
Maybe not. I don't know. I'm in Paris. That's all I can say.