Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

The Paris Wall of Love

by Meredith Mullins on October 16, 2017

Couple in front of the Paris Wall of Love, seeing the many ways to say I Love You. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The many ways to say “I Love You”
© Meredith Mullins

How To Say I Love You?
Let Us Count the Ways

Te amo . . . Sarang Hae (사랑해) . . . Nagligivagit . . . Ég elska pig . . . S’agapo . . . Mina rakastan sinua . . . Phom rak khun . . . Aishiteru (愛してる) . . . Je t’aime . . . Ya tebe kohayu . . . Rwy’n dy garu di . . . Ani ohev otach . . . Ik hou van je . . . Nakupenda . . . Wo ai ni (我爱你)

What does this parade of phrases have in common?

They are all ways to say “I love you”— language gems that are important in today’s world of far too much disaster, violence, mistrust, and hate.

What else do these terms of endearment have in common? They are all words that appear on the Wall of Love in Paris.

Can you guess the languages? (See the key at the end of this story for the answers.)

How to say I love you with love locks on the Paris Post des Arts, another way to say I love you from the Wall of Love. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The glint of metal says “I love you” . . . but there are other ways.
© Meredith Mullins

Saying “I Love You” in the City of Love

Paris is a romantic city. In fact, along with its classic moniker (“City of Light”), it has earned the perhaps coveted title of “City of Love.” (What city wouldn’t want to be the center of love?)

From the thousands of love locks that once glinted on so many of the iconic bridges to romantic trysts on park benches tucked away in garden corners to passionate tango dancing by the Seine, Paris lives and breathes romance.

The Wall of Love (Mur des Je t’aime) is a more hidden tribute—nestled in the Square Jehan Rictus near the Place des Abbesses in Montmartre.

The Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing us many ways to say I love you. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A secret Montmartre garden with a treasured wall
© Meredith Mullins

The 40-square-meter, blue-tiled wall watches over the greenery of the peaceful park and the locals who choose to sit amidst the quiet.

The wall attracts visitors, lovers, (and selfie addicts) from around the world who either stumble upon it or have heard about this creative treasure and have come in the name of love.

The work is the brainchild of artist Frédéric Baron, a lover of travel, language, and romance. The dream emerged in 1992 as he collected simple statements of “I love you” from his family and neighbors, all from different cultures. Each person wrote his or her “I love you” words on a single page of a notebook.

Bengali way to say I love you from the notebook of the Wall of Love by Frédéric Baron. (Image © Fredéric Baron.)

A Bengali “I love you” from Frédéric Baron’s notebook.
© Frédéric Baron from the Book of “I Love You’s”

As the project grew, Frédéric found more neighbors and friends from different countries, and finally began knocking on embassy doors to explain his vision and collect the rarest of the languages.

“It was a way to go around the world without leaving Paris and its suburbs,” Frédéric noted.

The result was three notebooks filled with more than 1000 ways to say “I love you” in more than 300 languages.

Arabic way to say I love you from the notebook of the Wall of Love by Frédéric Baron. (Image © Fredéric Baron.)

An Arabic “I love you” from Frédéric Baron’s notebook.
© Frédéric Baron from the Book of “I Love You’s”

Frédéric and Claire Kito, an artist and practitioner of oriental calligraphy, collaborated to create the wall in the year 2000, with production assistance from Daniel Boulogne.

The wall is built with 612 enameled lava tiles, reminiscent of the pages of the notebooks. The 311 “I love you” phrases are expressed in 250 languages and dialects— all in white lettering in varying calligraphic styles.

In a 1999 interview, Claire explained that, in Chinese calligraphy, “the hand is guided by the heart.” She wanted to respect the spirit of the person who wrote the words. She wanted to preserve the rhythms and graphic quality of the original writing.

The Paris Wall of Love in Montmartre, showing ways to say I love you in many languages. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Can you find the languages you know amidst the reflections off the shiny lava tiles?
© Meredith Mullins

All the languages of the United Nations are present, as well as languages such as Inuit, Navajo, Bambara (from Mali), Bislama (from Vanuatu), Dzongkha (from Bhutan), and Esperanto . . . to name a few of the lesser known languages.

Interspersed across the blue tiles are fragments of red, which, if brought together, form a heart. The artists intend the wall to be a healing force of love for the too often broken heart of humanity.

Part of the Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing many ways to say I love you in different languages. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

T’estimo . . . Catalan for “I love you”
© Meredith Mullins

Why Build A Wall?

There were as many ways to express this creative concept as there are ways to say “I love you.”

For Frédéric and Claire, the wall was not meant to be the usual symbol of division and separation. It was a way to reunite the world, through the languages of love—a symbol of reconciliation and peace.

Part of the Paris Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing many ways to say I love you in many different languages. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Can you spot the Zulu word for “I love you”?
© Meredith Mullins

The “Oh I See” Hope: Love Will Triumph

As visitors look at the Wall of Love—with so many cultures, countries, races, lives, and languages united in saying “I love you”— a feeling of hope is inevitable.

The Wall of Love is meant to spread this hope . . . and love — “to erase borders and open hearts,” as Frédéric says.

A worthy dream.

Part of the Paris Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing many ways to say I love you in different languages. (© Meredith Mullins.)

Can you find “Ek het jou lief”? And can you guess the language?
© Meredith Mullins

For a free download of Frédéric Baron’s book of “I Love You’s,” click here. 

To see more of Frédéric’s work, go to this site.

For more information about the Paris Love Locks, see this OIC Story.

Answer Key: Spanish, Korean, Inuit, Icelandic, Greek, Finnish, Thai, Japanese, French, Ukranian, Welsh,  Hebrew, Dutch, Swahili, Mandarin, (and for the last image—Afrikaans).

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

What’s in Your Suitcase?

by Joyce McGreevy on October 9, 2017

A souvenir store in Budapest, Hungary leads a writer to seek the locus of travel inspiration and other aha moments. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Souvenir stores straddle the border between “this place” and “any place.”
© Joyce McGreevy

Collected Travel Inspiration,
With & Without Souvenirs

Souvenirs—talismans of travel inspiration, mere trinkets, or  trash?  Can they inspire aha moments or only memorialize them?

The very word is a souvenir of 18th century French—from souvenir “to remember.” But I like the ancient Latin even better. Subvenire, “to come up from below,” tips its hat to the subconscious. It makes me think of opening old boxes in a basement and finding forgotten treasure, some silly, small item of no value.  And yet  . . .

Lost Souvenirs

My first souvenir? Petite plastic dolls from a Paris flea market. In the 1960s, my sister Carolyn and I splurged all our pocket money on them, one franc each. Ah, but that included “tous les meubles!”—all the furniture. Our dollhouse was a cupboard in our hotel, itself a souvenir of La Belle Époque.

A dollhouse in a store window in Sofia, Bulgaria leads a writer to ponder the travel inspiration we find in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A dollhouse in a store window in Sofia, Bulgaria.
© Joyce

They’re long gone now—dolls, furniture, the hotel, too. But my flea-market mind maintains a little shrine for them.

The first recorded use of souvenir as a token of remembrance occurred in 1782. One dictionary after another presents this tidbit but omits the actual example. It’s like finding a silver lid minus the vessel.  Souvenirs are like that—parts that can only hint at the whole.

Today, few people admit to souvenir-collecting. Marketing reports attest that travelers spend more on sightseeing than on shopping, souvenirs, and nightlife combined. Yet souvenir shops do booming business around the globe.

It’s Only Natural?

Early souvenir hunters “preserved” the past by breaking off bits of it. In the 1800s, visitors to Plymouth Rock were even provided with hammers.

An 1850 souvenir of Plymouth Rock leads a writer to ponder the downside of souvenirs and the true locus of travel inspiration. (Public domain image, National Museum of American History)

A chip off the old block? Some souvenirs proved too popular.
Plymouth Rock Fragment by National Museum of American History,  CC BY 4.0

Can the quest for remembrances make us forgetful? Recently, a mother and daughter from Virginia mailed back “souvenirs” to Iceland—a stone and a bag of sand they’d collected from the black volcanic beaches of Reynisfjara.

Back home, they learned that Icelandic law strictly forbids such souvenir collecting. The tourism board accepted their apology and promised to return the items to their natural setting.

Practical Souvenirs

A friend of mine collects “shoe-venirs” when she travels. Every walk she takes begins in lands she has loved.

A chef I know collects  household objects—a moka pot from Milan, spices from Moroccan souks. They link his American kitchen to kitchens around the world.

I like how these souvenirs, modern cousins to ancient vessels and vestments, are connected to daily rituals.

Ancient gold jewelry in the Benaki Museum, Athens, Greece inspires an aha moment about their connection to ordinary souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Charms of another age, at the Benaki Museum, Athens.
© Joyce McGreevy

Post-travel Souvenirs

One January, after returning from verdant Maui to snowbound Chicago, I saw melancholy sidle up to me. An aha moment intervened. I collected post-travel souvenirs: thrift store décor; Hawaiian-themed groceries; traditional island music. I adore Chicago, but Chicago-infused-with-Maui did wonders for my psyche that winter.

Garden objects in Maui lead a writer to ponder the reasons we find travel inspiration in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Objects catch our eye, but it’s the context that we crave.
© Joyce McGreevy

Ephemeral Souvenirs

Even minimalists-to-the-max collect souvenir ephemera. It’s scientific fact. Just as magnets attract iron filings, humans attract paper: playbills from Piccadilly, coasters from Costa Rica, a café napkin from Nantes.

One day, you rediscover it—the train ticket turned bookmark. Suddenly, you’re traveling again, backtracking along the past, or pressing your nose against a window onto the future.

A collage made of travel ephemera on an office wall in Chicago leads a writer to ponder ways people find travel inspiration in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Travel ephemera on an office wall in Evanston, Illinois.
© Joyce McGreevy

Whimsical Souvenirs

Now comes the parade of fringed pillows, ceramic caricatures, and other tchotchkes. Brazenly they shout out where you’ve been: Niagara Falls 1978! I heart Twickenham! Gibraltar ROCKS My World!

All hail souvenirs that sport the name Souvenir. If that Souvenir of Venice tea-towel were a person, it would stand arms akimbo and declare, “Yeah, pal, that’s right, I’m a Souvenir. What’s it to ya?”

Mass-produced pillows in California lead a writer to ponder why people find travel inspiration in souvenirs. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Southwestern “souvenirs” for sale—in a California suburb.
© Joyce McGreevy

“Elsewhere” Souvenirs

But what of provenance? During my youth in Ireland, the more stereotypical the souvenir, the likelier it was to be stamped An tSeapain tir adheanta—“Made in Japan.” Who made the faux French dolls my sister and I played with? Where did they live? What were their lives like? Souvenirs keep secrets.

Twilight in Baltimore, Co. Cork, Ireland leads a writer to compare the travel inspiration of souvenirs vs. experiences. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A moment made in Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Elusive Souvenirs

The day I left Budapest, I passed between souvenir stores. Innumerable wares glinted in the sunlight like autumn leaves. As a single-suitcase traveler, I pretend I’m “immune to the stuff.” But the ache of departure made me gluttonous with desire, as if travel inspiration were something to consume: I wanted the “all” of Budapest.

Oh, I see moment: Maybe that’s what travel souvenirs represent—a longing to live multiple lives in myriad places, in times that never have to end.

Empty-handed, heart full, I boarded the train and said goodbye to Budapest.

Now then, what’s in your suitcase?

See souvenirs so quirky they seem satirical, here

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Discovering the Art of Sand Sculptures

by Meredith Mullins on September 18, 2017

A lion sand sculpture, part of the great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculpting. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Winner of the 2017 Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest
© Meredith Mullins

The Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest

What lives and breathes sand and water . . . and brings out the kid in everyone?

What passion requires a unique combination of creativity, patience, delicacy, and grit?

What depends on building with the simplest of elements, but can rise to the pinnacle of artistry?

And what, without lament, is always inevitably destroyed?

Shovels in the sad, the remnants of a sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Grand finale for a sand sculpture: Inevitable destruction
© Meredith Mullins

It is the wonderful world of sand sculptures, or, for us novices, the wonderful world of plastic shovels and buckets and mounds of malleable sand.

Oh, I see. Sand and water open the door for creativity.

Drip sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The art of the drip technique
© Meredith Mullins

The Art of Sand Sculptures

There are sand sculpting events all around the world—well-known competitions from California to Florida and Europe to Australia. There’s even a World Championship of Sand Sculpting. Sand and water are a universal art form.

One of the classic sand events full of family fun is the Great Sand Castle Contest of Carmel—an informal competition held at the close of summer in Carmel-by-the-Sea on the central coast of California.

Roller skate sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A Roller Derby tribute by Dereck, William, and Adrian
© Meredith Mullins

This year’s competition—the 57th annual— took center (sandy) stage this past Saturday, September 16.

The invitation called for everyone who has ever built—or dreamed of building—a sand castle to come to Carmel Beach, fearless in heart, tools in hand.

Carmel is known for its expanse of white sand beach—so soft underfoot, it feels like walking on powdered velvet. Beautiful to look at. Difficult to use as a building material.

Todd Weaver makes a sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Veteran sand sculptor Todd Weaver makes the best of Carmel’s fine sand.
© Meredith Mullins

“The grains are round and fine because they’ve been rolled by the waves,” says Todd Weaver, a sand castle entrant and a veteran sand sculptor. “It’s like stacking ping-pong balls.”

He adds that some events import river sand for the competitions because the consistency is more like clay and easier to work with. Not Carmel.

What’s the secret strategy for this fine light sand? Water, water, and more water.

Sand sculpture with balls at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Todd Weaver’s final sculpture won the Best Theme Award.
© Meredith Mullins

Lines in the Sand

The theme of this year’s competition was “Lines in the Sand,” quickly addended by the disclaimer that following the theme is not required.

Golden Shovel Award for the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, where entrants discover the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The coveted Golden Shovel Prize
© Meredith Mullins

Carmel city officials (including internationally-known professional sand sculptor Rusty Croft) and American Institute of Architects representatives make up the fun-loving and attentive judging panel. They awarded the following prizes:

  • First prize (Golden Shovel Award)
  • Second prize (Sour Grapes Award) (The winner of this award has to whine, mope, and tell the judges off.)
  • Best Traditional Sand Castle
  • Best Theme
  • Best Children’s
  • Best Bribe
Judges reviewing a sand castle at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, where entrants are discovering the art of sand sculpture. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Judges review the “Stairway to Heaven” entry by Halden Frei and Sebastian Danielson,
which won the Traditional Sand Castle Award.
© Meredith Mullins

Judging criteria include the WOW factor, originality of design, artistic impression, difficulty of design, quality of carving, incorporation of theme, and quality of bribe.

Two simple rules are stated: (1) No machinery is allowed, and (2) All decorations must be found on the beach.

One guideline is unashamedly mentioned: Bribery of officials is condoned and encouraged.

And, oh yes, dogs must be leashed.

Sign to leash your dog at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, a day for discovering the art of sand sculpture. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Carmel loves its dogs, but not on Great Sand Castle Contest day.
© Meredith Mullins

On the Beach

As expert judge, Rusty Croft says . . . “Dig in.”

And they did.

For a two-block section of Carmel beach, sand sculptures of all shapes and sizes appeared. The sculptors were solo artists, duos, families, small teams, and groups so large they might have benefitted from org charts (diggers, water carriers, carvers, rakers, sprayers, beer-drinking supporters, and cooks and bartenders for the judges’ bribes).

Team of sand sculptors work on a sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The value of teamwork on the sculpture “All Lines Included”
© Meredith Mullins

There were children and adults. There were locals as well as visitors from afar who had driven hours to arrive at the beach by the 8 am start time.

There were veterans who had been to many of the sand castle contests over the years (including Jason Johnson, who had been to almost all of the 57 events, since he is a Carmel native and started coming as a child).

A sand sculpture aqueduct at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, where entrants discover the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The delicate architecture of an aqueduct won Luci, Hannah, and Benjamin the Children’s Award.
© Meredith Mullins

There were birthday celebrants who, instead of a bowling birthday or a roller skating party, wanted a sand castle birthday. And there are first timers who just thought it would be fun to come to the beach for a day and build a sand castle.

Family inside sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The Elfwing family from Sweden came on a first-time whim.
Their strategy: working from the inside out.
© Meredith Mullins

As for the sand forms, the variety was inspiring. Castles, aqueducts, Aztec ruins, sand villages, animals, sea creatures, shoes, man in a bathtub, and amazing mazes—all built within the four-hour timeframe.

And even though the “Lines in the Sand” theme was optional, several entries were particularly creative: “Lion in the Sand” and “Lines in the Sand-al.”

A sandal sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, where entrants discover the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

“Lines in the Sand-al” by Makenna, Connor, Neil, and Kyle
© Meredith Mullins

There was also “A Matter of Perspective” (a village of structures that spelled out L-I-N-E-S when viewed from a specific spot), and a structure with balls that appeared to be tumbling down carved steps but screeching to a halt just before the line in the sand (although one ball figured out an escape route).

Sand sculpture that spells out LINES for the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculpting. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

This village of structures spelled out L-I-N-E-S when viewed from the prime spot.
© Meredith Mullins

Tales from the Sand

Tom and Roan Collom were spontaneous entrants. They had no tools with them, so they adopted the “caveman approach”—their feet for rough digging and a Frisbee for a more refined “shovel” approach.

Two people digging sand maze for their sand sculpture, discovering the art of sand sculptures at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Tom and Roan Collom go back to basics with the “Feet and Frisbee” approach.
© Meredith Mullins

With just these basic tools and the spirit of the day, they built a participatory maze, so visitors could plot a journey through the tangle of sand paths.

The Frei family designed multiple entries, including a birthday celebration and a mound constructed by Dad and his toddler, who kept smushing and jumping on the sand structure.

“I’m going for my fourth spire,” Dad said. “I think I’ll call the project ‘Ruins by a two-year-old.”

Dad and child make a sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Dad and his two-year-old sand sculptor build . . . and rebuild . . . as needed.
© Meredith Mullins

The Humpback Homies went big. A whale of a design, inspired by all the whales that have been in the Monterey Bay lately.

The Homies’ claim to fame, however, is judge bribery. In fact, they have remained virtually undefeated in this category over the years.

Whale sand sculpture by the Humpback Homies, part of the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The Humpback Homies sit back and relax after completing their whale.
The next step: the bribery portion of the contest.
© Meredith Mullins

This year was no exception. Their lobster gazpacho, filet mignon, organic fruits and vegetables, ice cold beer, and caramels won the hearts of the judges (although a champagne and caviar bribe and a taco stand offered by competing entrants raised the stakes.)

MariJane from Humpback Homies serving snacks at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, where everyone is discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The Humpback Homies’ lobster gazpacho bribe was a thing of beauty.
© Meredith Mullins

A “Go with the Flow” Philosophy

Aside from muscled shoveling, hand and foot compacting, precise water/sand formulas, and engineering/architectural design, just about everyone on the beach had the “zen and the art of sand crafting” attitude. Going with the flow.

Woman patting sand sculpture by hand at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, where entrants are discovering the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Hands-on work by first timer Melodie Bahou, building an Aztec ruin with Cielo Cervantes
© Meredith Mullins

“You have to be ready to change,” mused Dereck Farren, talking about the fickleness of the sand. “It’s fun anyway, even if your creation fails.”

Of course all the artists have to be ready for the inevitable destruction. The tide will come in. The art will change . . . and ultimately will dissolve back into its simplest form.

“Once, our castles lasted for three days,” said Doug Evers of the Familia Creativa team. “Each day the sea changed the shapes.” But in the end, everything disappeared.

Abstract sand sculpture at the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest, showing the art of sand sculptures. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Even the Sour Grapes winner “All Lines Included” by Craig and Scott Comming (and team)
will wash back into the sea.
© Meredith Mullins

Soon, the sand sculptures of the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest will be gone. The judges will no longer accept bribes. The lobster gazpacho will be just a fond memory. The carving tools will be put away. The beach will return to its pristine whiteness. And dogs will run free again.

Until next year.

Winners and judges of the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest of 2017, discovering the art of sand sculptures in the best possible way. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The grand finale of the Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest 2017
© Meredith Mullins

The Great Carmel Sand Castle Contest is sponsored by the City of Carmel and the American Institute of Architects/Monterey Bay.

For more information about the art of sand sculpting, visit Judge Rusty Croft’s Sand Guys website.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Copyright © 2011-2025 OIC Books   |   All Rights Reserved   |   Privacy Policy