montmartre: a village of sin!

or, perhaps, the center of the bohemian world.
(or at least a whole lot of tourism.)





  

the bal du moulin rouge is not a real windmill, but it is very shiny.

I believe that's true of many things in our modern world.
new york is a dazzling collection of sparkly facsimiles.







the métro smells rather unsavory, but it has the most beautiful entryways ever.
















halfway up the hill, there is a little pocket of flat ground onto which is crammed an
overwhelmingly dense population of caricature sketch artists and mediocre painters.







if you wander into the side streets, you find some prettier, softer things.







can we please just stick to a little decorative piano?







...or something like it?
















the stairway up to the butte can make the wretched sigh,
when they turn around and see the rest of paris spread to the south.







the view from the top is stunning in both directions.
the basilique du sacré-coeur looks like nothing else in paris.







the steep garden-slope below is packed with rompers







and nappers.







still, even at the top of the hill, nothing is taller than the sky.







wockerjabby