李白静夜思

床前明月光,

疑是地上霜.

举头望明月,

低头思故乡

This is my dad’s favorite poem.

And I have no idea what it means.

In the mid-to-late 19th century, the city of Paris was undergoing a change. The process was called Haussmannization, and it was a campaign for the modernization of Paris.

He sat quietly, as he always did, in the living room, upon his large grey sofa, his mug resting on the large grey table, and all of the furniture in that large grey room rested peacefully atop a large grey carpet that absorbed the gradual ageing of his living there.

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