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C'est Bon!

Many life changes later, travel still remains the best remedy for heartbreak.

The end of 2021 and the beginning of 2022 kicked my butt...and yes, we are still only in the second month. But, I have been humbly reminded that heartbreak isn't always romantic and sometimes it is actually for the best.

My tendency, when faced with change, challenge, or a broken heart, is to run. I mean that literally and figuratively. I found my legs on a trail in 2013 and I've moved away more than I'd care to admit when things weren't going my way. This time, I've decided to stay in Chattanooga and build myself a home. Now, that doesn't mean my need to run has quelled, it simply means that I had an even better excuse to go see a friend. Que a two-week trip to France that turned into three.

I've had this trip planned for months. In true 'Sarah' fashion, spontaneity is in what I'll eat for breakfast, not where I'm jetting off to next. Well, one thing led to another, and two weeks before I left, I quit my job to go freelance photographer and copywriter (who knew!). Left with a little more time than I knew what to do with, I extended my stay mid-trip and spent the extra time launching a photo campaign, digging into the last several months, and growing into the future.

May I present to you, a *quick* photo essay of heartbreak well healed and a future worth figuring out!

“When good Americans die, they go to Paris.”

-Oscar Wilde

Paris lives up to the hype. It is anonymous, personal, loving, and cold in one breath. Of course, I did a few touristy things, but mostly I would just walk for h0urs and hours. When I was tired, I would grab a bottle of wine, a baguette, some cheese, and charcuterie and head back to my Airbnb to write or read my book and, honestly, just stare out the window.

"Who cares? Kingdoms rise and fall. Just don't burn the paintings in the Louvre. That's all."

-Anne Rice

Most of my time was spent in Montpellier. A piece of me may still be there. It's a town made up of long strolling walks, cobblestone streets, dappled light through trees in Les Jardin des Plantes, and bottles of cheap French wine.

Sete. I will move here and disappear into the sea and be all the happier for it.

Hot take: Musee D'orsay is worlds better than the Louvre. That is all.

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