Picture this…

You’re sitting in a supremely classy but edgy gallery/cafe in the Parisian 6th (the present crème de la crème art district right across the Seine from the Louvre) with your 5th espresso in your hand and you’re feelin’ warm and cozy inside due to a little dose of rum or somesuchthing a bit earlier. A funky little, but very talented, jazz band plays across the room while Francos mingle with kisses hello, goodbye and inbetween that are countless and and quite possibly confounding to those not native to these exotic lands. The walls are covered with great art by people who maybe, by some standards, shouldn’t have quit their day jobs, but we’re glad to and have done pretty well by doing so. An odd painting catches your eye from across the room so you abandon your espresso and walk over to it to peruse the detail…

Here’s what you see and hear (sorry, I can’t provide the taste of a French espresso, the smells of French perfumes, or even that dose of that somesuchthing – you’ll just have to imagine those things on your own).

I call this painting “Franklin’s Barrel.”