The Northern Hemisphere
… a Leap. Into the unknown…
Paris | Nice | May 2025
I was staying with a cousin for the first leg of the trip. She told me tales of her studies in France and her journey to becoming a dual citizen. She took me to jazz bars and introduced me to her friends and old coworkers. We would have lunch before I headed to my first class. As I navigated the relatively efficient train system, I passed through my favorite sites, all requiring me to look up. The streets of Paris were soft on Mary Jane slingback as they featured exaggerated shoulders, billowing tops, and round studded bags. Very Isabel Marant. Windswept hair always. Button down shirts or leather jackets and jeans just a little looser or a little tighter than an American Male would. More elegant and refined as time aged its citizens, having an afternoon coffee and a smoke. Some bites. Laughing and gossiping. All rather friendly.
A converted eighteenth-century mansion, hidden on the streets of Paris. A school, housing a pearl exhibition. Back with the stones for the first time in a year. Meeting aspiring jewelry designers from London and enthusiasts from Monaco. Instructors from Dubai. All gathered around a table, passing stones amongst themselves as they discussed the scientific and historical nature of the stones. I was gleeful to be back, even in an educational setting. Contributions from students were encouraged, and as I spoke of Chalcedony, I was asked,
“Are you a Lapidary as well?”
I had explained my experience overseeing the creation of a Chalcedony necklace, and some of my questions led to the inquiry.
“What House did you come from?”
The class resumed as usual after I explained that I had been at a House at one point, but was currently just a student.
~
The One That Got Away — Away
Work and Study are done for the day. Nobody owns your time but you, and you’re spending it the way you want to. You’ve just hugged a best friend, who you haven’t seen in what feels like ages, but is someone you can immediately fall into step with. You have finally dropped your bags for the day. After washing off the travel of it all, as you tuck yourself in for the night. Who do you think of? Who’s checking in? Who knows when you need to catch your breath? Who’s still calling you? Who knows how to understand space and timing? Who can pick up as if no time has passed, even if life has? Who gets to be with you as you grow/build? Who do you call when you’re afraid or shaken? Delighted? That circle shrinks, as closeness and understanding grow. If you’re lucky, that list will be complete of friends, family, and trusted ones. The village! When on a side quest, who do you wish were beside you, for every step of the way?
Odds are, even if you’re not quite sure how to say it. You’ll know exactly who you wish was beside you when you’re far from home. The one you want to call late at night, just settling in. Freshly showered. Finally at rest. To say,
“It’s been incredible, but I am so excited to come home.”
~
The days in the Northern Hemisphere had the sun setting at ten in the evening. Blessed for extended summers with Apollo. I had arrived just in time for the kickoff of the season—F1 in Monaco and the Cannes Film Festival. As alluring as it all could be, my dear friend and I found ourselves rather tired from our previous trips. Deciding in the morning that a walk along the coast to a quiet lunch, listening to the waves, was the perfect start. Much had changed in our lives since she had visited New York, and we had much to catch up on.
The South of France had been my happy place from the first time I had set foot into the land. I had always planned to bring the love of my life there. Meet with one of my dearest. A land with mountains, the beach, cliffs, a beautiful town with local shops and artisans, and an incredible flea market. Sitting seaside once again, he crossed my mind. Even if some would claim he shouldn’t have. While he was free to do as he pleased, as was I— I would’ve been the most pleased if he were beside me in Heaven on Earth. A bit of peace away from the chaos. My dear friend was a noble girl and was overjoyed to hear my experience back with the stones; she spoke many Truths, even if they were at times hard to hear. However, I’ve always loved that quality about her, as we often had similar approaches to rapport and etiquette.
‘Gemology lives in the soul.’”
She shared tales of her growing life in the East. Sharing her life with a very respectable and admirable man, they adopted a puppy to raise, and she had started to build a community of her own in a new city, following her graduation. I have always been so proud of her.
“So… tell me about him.” She asked, “I want to hear the California/New York perspective.”
I sat for a moment, taking in what I had imagined countless times. What lay beyond the gates I grew up in, what lay beyond the mountain top, almost as far from home as I could imagine.
“I think I’ve tried to translate myself before, and it was never quite right. California is perhaps more relaxed or carefree by nature— a bit wild. I think New York, or even my overall time on the East Coast, brought quite a bit of refinement. I see that in him as well, there’s a familiarity that’s just never been there with anyone else—things like when a little bit of the Valley reaches my accent. We pronounce our vowels the same, and I love the sound of his voice. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but he keeps crossing my mind. Even when I’m across the world.”
She smiled softly at the sentiment,
“I do hear you on sharing a culture or heritage. It is quite nice not to have to translate certain little things. Even for me, it is so nice not having to translate accents because you grow up hearing certain regions. There are these tiny parts of our identities that we are comprised of that you don’t even realize until they come up. As long as he courts you properly, I would be pleased to meet him. You deserve the most.”
I tilted my head with a smile,
“Well, thank you, dear. We will see with Time. I just really do wonder how many times he drove through my hometown while I was there. Or how many times I’d watched him run right outside my window without even realizing. I still think about that. Out of everywhere to move in New York, we were just around the corner.”
“Didn’t something crazy happen on that date, like a storm?”
“Well, it wasn’t really a storm. The skies just kind of opened up right where we stood; we kept looking up the whole night.”
~
The evening’s dinner featured fresh seafood and a live jazz band with a beautiful view of the coast. It was the perfect place to people-watch and enjoy the latest local hotspot and a stunning sunset. The following morning was set for a beautiful medieval village atop a small mountain with storybook walls and breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. Dressed in crisp summer whites, two girls stopped by a famous French perfumery before stepping into a world of charm.
The town was magical, full of jewelry, art, and the locals’ best. I had come across an original sketch of a ballerina, sitting at rest with a resting pointe. It was so intentional, I bought it. As the early afternoon crowd filtered in waves, the girls departed an hour earlier than initially intended. The extra time had provided three options:
- A short car ride
- An eight-mile walk down the main roads
- A one-mile hike down the mountainside.
Figuring we had the extra time, having heard the hike was scenic and relatively easy, we decided,
If we do this, there’s no turning back.
With synchronized nods, we walked down a brick path. A few viewpoints in, the brick path seemed to disappear and reappear with various terrain and stone steps. I had started to wish I hadn’t selected my Anine Bing satin ribbon gladiator sandals for the day. As hikers passed us on the way up, we stopped to chat and ask how far from the bottom we were. Halfway!
We found humor in the idea of crisp summer whites marching down the mountainside and stopped at every view of the coast. The steps and my footwear reminded me of the Greek-inspired Villa she had shown us in Côte d’Azur the summer prior. Thinking of how the Greeks had settled in the region in 7 BC, laying the groundwork for the Romans, I lightly stated,
“I’m feeling rather in touch with the Greeks and Romans, and the human geography.”
Which made us laugh as I pointed to the sea in the distance, she looked at me quizzically,
“You measure sea level to calculate distance?”
“Well, a hike like this actually isn’t that uncommon in the region I grew up in. Perhaps different footwear, but typically when you see that sea level, you’re decently close to the final stretch.”
As the seaside was in sight, groups of girls in their summer linens of various colors passed us, and my dear friend and I exchanged knowing glances. As we approached the sea, we stopped and did a once-over of ourselves. An alive glow, makeup in order, summer whites still clean and relatively crisp— we flipped our hair and laughed,
“Oh, no one has a thing on me.”
“And to anyone who prayed on my downfall…”
We were just in time for our lunch reservation, in great spirits, feeling like we had just conquered the world. I wished I could give him a call and tell him of the unexpected venture. Give him that laugh I loved so much.
A Love Letter
Written with Honey
