I got up bright and early this morning to go to the south-side flea market at the Porte de Vanves. This market promises heartbreak at every turn. Paintings too expensive to spring for, glassware too fragile for the suitcase. Everything is set up on the sidewalk, on card tables, just like a hometown yard sale. Only, that painting of the nude? A thousand euro. I overheard some women saying, "I'm anguished...I don't have any money...why did I come?"- and I could relate. I did seriously consider buying an original black and white gouache illustration of a man and woman struggling over a pistol that had been published in a French pulp novel. But it was that, or have enough money to eat for this coming week. I've told myself that if it's still there next week, I'll spring for it. For the time being, I consoled myself with this dreamy little card in blue for one little euro.