Ghazaleh Abassalian | TILES AT JULES


The tiles at Jules fix everything in my life. The tiles at Jules take me
back to everywhere else I’d rather be. These tiles remind me of the
dinner Nicolas took us for: a memorable meal at that bistro in Paris,
where the tiles are just like the tiles at Jules and I had the best rice
pudding and the best escargot and the best wine, of my life. The tiles
at Jules remind me of Chez Paulette in Brooklyn where we had wine
and escargot, once again, to celebrate the new year and we decided
we should move to Montreal, this was on January 1st 2016. The tiles
at Jules pair perfectly with escargot and red wine. The tiles at Jules
bring me back to the mussels we ate at Oscars with Amanda, where
she encouraged me to taste the wine instead of someone else, this
made me feel so very important. The tiles at Jules pair perfectly with
shell animals. The tiles at Jules give me confidence and remind me
that I love doing things on my own and they remind me to put away
my phone and enjoy my cappuccino at the bar like confident women
do in movies, or like Carrie Bradshaw did in that one and only episode
where she sat on her own in a cafe. The tiles at Jules have no idea
what they mean to me. They carry all the scattered memories in my
life that I want my life to be made of, in total completeness.
The tiles at Jules remind me of that time I took my mom to Jules for
a French onion soup and that cappuccino that comes with a sugared
orange peel and she pointed out there were only old people at Jules,
and us. That made me sad, that made her laugh. So there is some
sadness and laughter attached to the tiles at Jules. Still, the tiles at
Jules make me feel independent and all I can think of is the shape of
a beret and Godard movies and how Anna Karenina looked in Band
of Outsiders and how I need to find a similar pleated skirt for my next
cappuccino at the bar. The tiles at Jules capture the essence of where
I want to be in 5 years, even though I can’t explain what that means.
Writing about the tiles makes me wonder if I should look up more,
perhaps I stare at the floor too often and that might not make a good
impression, on who I do not know, exactly. But it’s hard to not look at
the prettiest part of a building, like Jules’ tiles.


Author’s Bio

Ghazaleh Abassalian, born in Tehran, raised in Amsterdam, currently based in Montreal is a visual artist and poet. With a BFA from the Gerrit Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam she explores the voice and words, their tone and the rhythm of language.