Urban Nature: Combined Essay

                                                Urban Nature

I always said and have always called myself a “city” person.  I am a very fast paced, impatient person. I live off of other people surrounding me and I enjoy being in walking vicinity of all my necessary needs, such as:  restaurants, clothes, groceries, and much more. It is ironic, because I did not start that way. I was born in Italy, Puglia, where everything was dark and tiny and everything was not necessarily a drive, but if you walked you would feel like your stepping onto the set of Jeepers Creepers and you would feel very unsafe and scared.

I was born with more nature than concrete, it was beautiful, but as a kid I loathed it. I wanted to leave and that wish was later granted a couple years later when I moved to New York for college. Even my move to Los Angeles was not suffice, it was still so dark in the majority of the city, because in truth there was only one street light for every two blocks. I always called it a zombie town, because of how slow and nonchalant everyone seemed to be and how at night in some neighborhoods it tended to look like an apocalypse had just went down and everyone had been vanquished or disappeared. However, when I left I never knew how much I would miss, besides the food, its nature. The hikes, the grass, the water, its nature was one of the things I failed to understand or remember to say bye to when I left.

So when I left Los Angeles and I arrived to the metropolis New York, I was at first blind. I was excited the lifestyle I wanted, which was city life, had finally come to be. If I wanted food, I would go across the street, if I wanted to go to school, I would take the metro below my building and in one stop I was there. Everything was fast and quick, just how I liked it to be. So when I returned back to zombie town and I was greeted with what they always seem to live up to, which was there nickname, I did not realize what else I would be hit with, which was my longing for real and non-manmade nature. I missed my scenic drives (and driving as a whole), my lookout points, and the fact that if I wanted to be in nature it was just a twenty to thirty minute drive.

When I returned to what I now call my third home, my walks through central park just felt unreal and depressing, the state of weather that New York was in was also no help. Irony later fell on my lap, when I was assigned to explore all the parks of New York from one class, and in another I learned about biodiversity. From what I learned was that where Central Park was, unsurprisingly, was what used to be more of its metropolis. From biodiversity, I learned about the urbanization and choice selection of the trees, plants, and animals that was placed in Central Park. From what I recall, which may not be much, when the committee were selecting which trees and animals to unleash within the new natured vicinity. They did not take in consideration if the animals, trees, and plants would truly work together. After discovering that they did not, the committee played god and manipulated the nature of the park into working in a way that perhaps the plants and trees would never have done so from the start.

Although, I seem to be complaining, I am learning to just understand what is presented to me and stop fighting it, because at least there is some sort of escape from the constant concrete that tends to be now always around me.

This leads me to my now new life in Paris, and my return to Europe. Once again, I have found myself in a city life, something I adore, and once again I forgot something I would miss or as a human, need. This was nature; in New York at least it was a big piece urbanized landscape that went for miles. Here, at first, I had the largest difficulty with all the bans and requirements and locating it. Then we were assigned two parks, back to back, the first being Parc Monceau and the second being Parc des Buttes Chaumont.

The first, Monceau, was huge and it made me a bit nostalgic in regards to New York and its Central Park. It had all the things I have seen in all past parks I had visited; children playing, people working out, and couples strolling. I did not expect that part to be different, but what I saw instead was the aesthetic and the design of the city carried into the park. The park was more fluid and in tune with its city, although it may disrupt Paris’ roads, it at least continues its design aesthetic. Monceau has a very “ruin” or romantic feel. It feels as if it has a past and as if it was designed to be strolled and looked at. Most parks they plant a tree and place a few statues, but Monceau was so beautiful and so breathtaking that it made me feel relaxed with its nature. Getting lost in it was a pleasure more than a stress or burden. I also, unintentionally, planned it at a moment when the five minutes of sun that is granted everyday in Paris to be shining at the moment I was walking through.

I recently learned how to walk for pleasure I used to detest it. It was in my DNA to hate it, because I lived in a place where cars were a necessity for movement and transportation, and this is all thanks to my lovely zombie town. However, once I moved to New York and I became accustomed to its lifestyle and geography, I refused to use any other form of transportation besides my feet. This is only mainly accomplished in the summer, fall, and spring. Not a single soul could catch me outside in winter.

So since then I have adored walking, I cannot place a reason but perhaps that it is the only source of meditation that works on a character type like me. It is the only form to calm me and relieve me of all the annoyances that hit me throughout the day. I have never been one to meditate; it actually infuses me with more anxiety and stress, because the idea to stand or sit and not move, gives me stress. When I used to live in Los Angeles, I would go for drives when I was upset or needed space. Paris provides me with my favorite modes of transportation to help me relax all the while staring at its historic architecture and city.

Overall, I understand what the city is trying to accomplish. It is trying to create an illusion or a five-minute escape for its citizens. I always need a break from the city and the park provides it, and when I visit either of the parks, which I have so fortunately been able to see or visit, it certainly provides me with what I need. Especially in the summer and the trees and plants are fully blossomed and flourished in leaves and flowers, you can definitely block out the outside views of the tops of buildings. Luckily, I am one of the very few who enjoys the sound of traffic and cars so the noise pollution is never a bother.

I opportunely have temporarily moved to a location where it’s meant to be strolled through. Everything is designed and structured so beautifully, so I feel, even for non-walkers it is difficult not to even want to attempt it.  I was told the only to acquaint yourself with a new home and city was to walk through and get lost in it. Every time I was assigned a new place, and especially the park, I decided to lose myself in them. Each time I found a new way home with a new location to go to. After my visits to the park, I visited Montplier and took abuse to the fact that every city is either an hour or lower away and I went hiking and more. It was the perfect escape. So far, living in Paris, I have been granted the bests of all three of my past homes; the best food, nature and city life, beauty, and my family being in near vicinity. Paris does a good job of incorporating nature and city life. The parks were beautiful and a joy to visit.

Ford Madox Ford

Both, Ford Madox Ford’s, A Paris Letter, and Earnest Hemingway’s, A Moveable Feast, condone a use of an unreliable narrator. Ford commends himself and tends to over embellish himself, all the while being biased in his writing. While Hemingway describes a lifestyle and experience that is not or may not have everyone’ s same feelings or opinions. 

I feel that both writers’ credibility has been mildly compromised. Hemingway’s is a tad bit more excusable since it is a retelling from his mind and experience. However, the sole flaw could be found in his opinions of people. For example, from a previous assignment we saw the description of Sylvia Beach, and we compared them with another reading. He described her as this sweet woman who had no difficulties and no backbone. However, when we read from another side and point of view, we learned so much more from her and about her. 

This isn’t Hemingway’s fault, in truth, for he is human and one human with one perspective. He sees what he writes, he includes whatever he feels is important and what could aid in his retelling of his marvelous time in Paris. 

Everyone is victim to this, I know if I wore writing about a story of my life or even just my time in Paris there would, most definitely, be a lie here or there. 

Fords’ story is more ficitional, we are given the point of view of John, a man who just discovered that is wife has been unfaithful. This should immediately warn the reader that perhaps our narrator is not entirely stable or capable to retell everything for what it is. So it becomes immediately biased, and it’s normal. At the start of the reading, by just hearing the summary the reader will immediately feel sympathetic towards John and hatred towards the wife, and just curiosity because we are people and we are prying. 

(In Fords’ narrator I found myself sympathizing with his diction and understanding of his situation. I went in this with that state of mind, because I did read the summary first. Which I shouldn’t have, but it’s a tendency I have. )

The problems with unreliable narrators are that we, as readers, are dependent on writers from the start. So when they form these opinons or sell these stories we immediately fall align to them and what they say. Perhaps, because for me, when I read I do it as a mindless and informative act. While I am reading I am learning about characters and there life and I do not like to faction in all sorts of feelings and cancel all types of situations that can superimpose on the types of words that I will have to focus on. For me reading is a rhythmic thing, not a mathematical problem where I have to subtract and add.

Urban Nature

 Urban Nature is difficult to compare or criticize, especially during these times when so little surrounding me, personally, has not been manmade nature. I grew up and have lived in, now, four locations: Italy, Los Angeles, New York, and now Paris. The majority of those cities force upon their citizen manmade nature.

I am not complaining nor am I saying it is not beneficial, I am just stating that manmade nature can make no stand against natural untouched nature. Manmade nature, like the one we were assigned to this week, had concrete visible; it was even the way to guide and lead you around.

In wild parks, there is no concrete path to lead you, if you are on a hike, perhaps there is a trail from whom past hikers could have left. However, in Parc des Buttes there was the concrete floor and in the distance you could see the concrete from buildings and streets.

Recently, I visited Colorado and from what I saw, their forests and life can grant and please any outdoorsy person. For so long I have forgotten what is was like to see trees with, instead of buildings as their background, simply other trees or mountains as their background. It was breathtaking and relaxing. I understand my scenario, and I am grateful that even a parc could be provided in such a city life environment.

The placement of this Park was as natural as it could be, it actually provided be with a bit of nostalgia, in regards to New York and its Central Park. It fascinates me when I read famous past writers talking about their walks in the park and how it inspires them and such. When in truth what they are looking at is manmade and in fact, not real.

Something else that fascinates me about manmade parks is correlated to a reading I was assigned a few years past. When selecting trees and animals for the construction of parks, not many people took in considerations the choices. If one plant did not mend well with an animal, it could cause a chain reaction of environmental or economical problems. I recall from an article, when building central park, a tree species was selected to be placed, however, there was a problem because one of the animals or plants did not work well with it. So it was either killing them or not allowing them to grow. So every time I go into manmade parks, I always tend lose myself in thought about the selection of trees, plants, and animals and how if not for these parks they might never have been planted or placed near each other.

I understand what the city is trying to accomplish. It is trying to create an illusion or a five-minute escape, and if it were not created some people might have gone mad. I don’t know for other people, but I always need a break from the city. These parks provide it, and they are mildly successful when you are mostly in the exact middle and surrounded by the forced green and tall bushy trees clouding and covering it. I bet, in the summer when plants and trees are more flourished, any hints of city life or outside buildings are entirely blocked.

However, as I walked more and I found myself in a higher altitude, I saw the lands of Paris, and yes, I like my escape from city life, but Paris is an exquisite city. So its look as the background of the “forest” or park was not entirely an annoyance.

Thoreau: Art in Nature

This assignment reminds me of a previous assignment I had during my freshman year in college, which was to visit all the known parks in New York. Beginning with Washington Park and then continue on until the finale, which was the famous Central Park. 

This assignment was a necessary one, I always forget the feeling until I am physically there. Which leads me to quote the saying "you never know what your missing till its gone," is entirely true. This park reminded me of a cleaner Central Park. Its placed in a metropolis city and it helps provide an escape from the constant concrete that always surrounds its citizens.

Monceau was huge, from what I experienced, it felt large and looked large. I saw all the things I have seen in past parks; children playing, people working out, and couples strolling.

However, the aesthetic of this park or the overall look of this park was not the same as the previous ones I’ve seen. Paris’s design is something that can be described as antiques or historic, and that is what this park has accomplished.

Although, it disrupts Paris’s city roads, it at least continues it design aesthetic.

Monceau has a very “ruin” or historic feel. It feels as if it has a past, and as if it was designed to be looked at.

Most parks they plant a tree and place a few statues, but Monceau were so beautiful and so breathtaking that it made me feel relaxed with its nature. Getting lost in it was a pleasure more than a stress or burden. I also, unintentionally, planned it at a moment when the five minutes of sun that is granted everyday in Paris to be shining.

I recently learned how to walk for pleasure I used to detest it. It was in my DNA to hate it, because I lived in a place where cars were a necessity for movement, the lovely and sunny Los Angeles. However, once I moved to New York and I became accustomed to its lifestyle and geography, I refused to use any other form of transportation besides my feet. This is only mainly accomplished in the summer, fall, and spring. Not a single soul could catch me outside in winter.

So since then I have adored walking, I cannot place a reason but perhaps that I do like to think and listen to my music. It is the only form to calm me and relieve me of all the annoyances that hit me throughout the day. I have never been one to meditate; it actually infuses me with more anxiety and stress, because the idea to stand or sit and not move, gives me stress.

I actually recall not only from the reading but from a comic, that the idea of walking explicitly for the purpose of walking is an act for people who either really happy or for people who like to think or space their thoughts. I agree with this entirely, besides for the comment regarding that only happiness is what pushes people to stroll outside.

I also disagree with a part of the reading when Thoreau comments that you have to be born into a family of walkers to enjoy the process itself. I was not born into it, but I later grew into it. However, I do not feel like I must mention this, but just in case, everyone is different.

I fortunately have temporarily moved to a location where it’s meant to be strolled through. Everything is designed and structured so beautifully, so I feel even for non-walkers it is difficult not to even want to attempt it.

Montparnasse

On the Montparnasse walk I was placed in an area that I believe I have visited, only in passing. I was not entirely associated with the area, although I may live nearby it.  It is a little bit below from where I live.

Something that I did when I first moved here was walk everywhere instead of hailing a cab, using Uber or even taking the metro. It was so tempting at times just to click the little application button on my phone just to avoid the cold. I was freezing. I dressed in countless amounts of thermal clothing, but the cold humidity was still freezing my legs and arms. However, I remember the cold from back home, in New York, and I remember that it could be entirely worse, because the lack of snow.

My reasoning for the wandering strolls, was that first it came highly recommended. Everyone always told me when I make my move over to Paris, is that I should just walk, because it is “so beautiful.” The second reasoning is that, I feel like the only way to learn and truly understand a new home or city is to simply get lost in it and later find your way.

When I was walking through the instructions on the Montparnasse walk, I found myself in a lot of the areas that I lost myself in from my earlier days in Paris. I recognized the name and the areas of Montparnasse, Rue de Rennes, Saint-Michel, and obviously Saint-Germain.

Rue de Rennes had all the objects and belongings that all my errands eventually led me to. It had shops and meals some that I recognized from home. The most excited things I spotted was, Chipotle.

I know I sound terribly American when I say it, but it was the one thing I missed and craved the most and when I was told by my Parisian friends that three opened up here I got, embarrassingly, overly excited over the possibility of having my chips, guacamole and burritos with the beautiful Paris as my cafeteria or background.

As I continued my walk up, I became instantly recognized and familiar with the location I was sent to. The final destination was Shakespeare and Company. I place I have walked by and ran by everyday since my arrival.

I learned that a little bit past it is a nice little playground with grass, which is where I run to from my apartment with my dog.

Living with my dog in Paris I have learned of a flaw that this city has. There are no dog parks and no general area of where they are allowed, which is why the streets are filled with there excrements. It would not be as outlandish if they would collected and toss it in the nearest trash with a dog bag, but that notion is apparently a very American one also because it is usually just left everywhere around the streets.

My running trail usually consists of me beginning my run going under all the bridges, passing the Notre Dames, and then my return is mostly where I go up the stairs and I pass the famed bookstore Shakespeare and Company. So I can say with certainty, which is rare in this case, that I am familiar with this area.

When I went to Shakespeare and Company for this assignment, I had already bought my books, but I did look in and with no surprise I see that it is once again packed. There was the girl from the previous time I visited there guiding all the people and lining them up for who gets to go next.

Last time I went, she was really kind. She brought me to all my books and figured I was a new student in Paris. We chatted a little bit outside and she even played with my dog while I went inside, because although they are allowed it was too cramped inside and I didn’t want anyone to step or hurt her. So she offered her assistance and aided me in more than just book retrieval. The people in Shakespeare and Company were probably the only kind people I have met in Paris. Even the cashiers when they were on there break spoke to me outside and asked me about my classes when they saw my books. It was a nice break from the regular grumpy and snappy cashiers I am usually greeted with at the other stores.

My visits at Shakespeare and Company actually reminds me of our reading that was assigned a few weeks ago, which is from when Ernest Hemingway had a similar interaction with the owner of Shakespeare and Company herself, Sylvia Beach. When he had no money for the purchase of a book, but was still given the opportunity to read.

It was nice to finally be greeted with kindness, which is why I find myself very comfortable in Shakespeare and Company and visiting it.