ABSTRACT
Perhaps my life is not measured in minutes, hours, or days, but rather in the space and quality of every single breath. Perhaps the quality of time “spent” depends upon my attitude toward time.
In the fall of 1985, the artist Christo and his partner JeanneClaude completed a remarkable project in Paris, France. They wrapped the city’s oldest bridge, the Pont Neuf, including the sidewalks and streetlamps, in vibrant light-gold cloth. I was living and working in Paris at the time and naturally intended to make a pilgrimage. On a beautiful autumn day, upon the completion of the project, I headed to the Latin Quarter to experience The Pont Neuf Wrapped. As I approached the neighborhood in the vicinity of the bridge, I noticed that the usual day-to-day atmosphere of the place had altered dramatically. It was as though everyone on the streets of the neighborhood had awoken from a long sleep.To me, this ubiquitous alertness felt pristine and refreshing. As I turned a corner and beheld the graceful, golden spectacle of the encased bridge, I gasped. Caught up in a collective wave of excitement, I fell headlong into the shared elation of being part of this extraordinary event.
