I was seven or eight the first time I heard Edith Piaf. I was dusting when "Non, je ne regrette rien" came on the radio. I stood stunned, watching dust motes swirl in the sunlight, listening to this unearthly sound. When I could move I ran to my Grandmother to ask "Is a human making this sound?"

She told me about the French language, and I kept listening, and an entire world opened up before me that I could not have imagined.

Then I forgot. Not the opening, but what had initiated it.

Until I was eighteen and a friend put a record on the Hi-Fi, and I was transported back to my grandmothers house, standing in front of the window with the dust rag in my hand.

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For Art Journal Caravan w/Tangie Baxter: Itinerary #05 {Port of Call: France}. Made with Paula Kesselring's kits, Be My Valentine and Virtue of Wisdom.