She glanced back. Yes, he was there, still smiling, a tall, brown haired man, wearing sunglasses in this weather. She could see his green turtle neck from under his beige Mac. The dog looked wet and a bit sad, maybe he wanted home already. She felt her own dog jerking the leash to turn around. The guy's dog must be male.
How bizarre, she thought, there, on the bank of the Seine, under the pouring rain, these two strangers decided to walk their dogs. There was no one else around, no passerbys. Was he following her? She knew she'd seen him somewhere else but where? Maybe in the park,but now she really saw him : tall, taller thant her but just the perfect size. Where did that thought come from? He was quite good looking, square chin, brown hair, but she chouldn't see his eyes.
He was comming towards her, she could hear his footspteps on the wet pavement. And there was no one else under the rain. She was intrigued. Strangely enough it didn't even cross her mind to be afraid, she was actually fascinated by this guy and his dog.
The man's smile didn't falter as she half turned towards him. She started walking towards him then. He stopped. He was now looking at her with his brown, soft eyes, still that smile on his lips as if he knew her. She wanted to ask "Where? Who? Why?" but she found herself smiling as well.
She was now looking straight at him. She did know him, she'd known him for a while now. He also lived on the Rive Gauche, perhaps somewhere on the other side of the square from where her flat was(why it was called a square when it was round, she didn't know).
She'd seen him in the street, probably going to work, always fashionable, sometimes in a hurry. She knew he was French, but she never knew his name. How many times did they cross eachother in bakeries and tailor shops? How many times did they walk the dogs in the same park, sat on the same bench, at different hours, different days. How many times did they almost meet?
"Bonjour, vous"
"On se connait?"
"Maintenant, si"
*Samaritaine is the name of a famous Parisian Department store, bigger than La Fayette and Le Printemps, it was the place for fashionable and expensive shopping before it was closed for "rebuilding" in 2005. Actually it was a move to restructure the personnel and transform it into office and apartment building so this fashionistas' paradise never reopened. These pictures were in the window of the shop in summer of 2006.



I don't know what became of Sarah, I think she was a niece of Cassatt's. She remaind's me of a picture I saw of my mum at about the same age, and maybe that's where the fascination came from. Other than that, I love the wamth that surrounds the painting, and of course, the little dog. I find the painting typical of Mary Cassatt's style: she had a deep understanding of children and women and these where her subjects of choice, doing normal things.
Cassatt was close to the Impressionist, exhibiting with them and being active in their movement. Her use of colors and light is apparent of such a relationship. Under their inspiration, she took her work outside the workshop, always carrying a sketch book and this can be seen in her painting: snapshots of life.
She was a modern woman, refusing the gender discriminations of her time, she did her best to brake boundaries. It was said she was too outspoken for her own good, although less so with age. When she was unhappy with the learning she received at the Academy, she took it upon herself to improve and study the Old Masters. Cassatt travelled extensively through Europe, considering the only way to succed is to broaden your horizons.
What fascinated me was her use of colors. Although this was one of the things that was criticated during her lifetime, I find that the bright colors and warm tones bring the subjects to life.
All the pictures are from Wikipedia, where you will also find more information on