vignettes from my mother's

When I am in Paris these days, I spend a lot of time in my mother's apartment.It is the place I grew up in, and I see it now as a museum of emotions, a glance at lives safely lived inside those walls, an imprint of my parents, and a memory of my adolescence rekindled by my old school books,piled up as I left them, a poster I picked up at a opening while in high school.