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As a child, when I pictured a castle, I envisioned lots of gold brocade, velvet ropes hanging from overabundance of draperies rich colors and tapestries, furniture too fragile to sit on because it's so imbued with history. It’s clean, shiny, inviting, yet majestic. The castle I imagined has servants, and well lit corridors, and large spacious armoires with mirrors to twirl around in front of while wearing my fancy dresses… That is not my castle… 
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There is something intoxicating about France… There is a rhythm here… A slowness of pace… An almost seductive invitation to pause for a moment and let life happen… It starts with a glance to catch your eye And if you are receptive The gaze l-i-n-g-e-r-s  |
Samantha Eve, a
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