© Jessie Kanelos

Long before thefrancofly had pictures, illustrations, or Paris as its backdrop, I was working as a costume production assistant in New York.  Glamorous moments, yes.  Knee-deep in snow in one of the brutalist winters to date, where no boots were waterproof enough, about to pass off a bowl of chili to my boss on set, Phillip Seymour Hoffman walked over and asked, “You gonna eat that?”.  “No, it’s just keeping my hands warm,” I murmured bug-eyed.  Completely frightened, I handed the paper bowl of chili off to Phil and I skipped away as quickly as I could.  But for every moment like that, there were weeks were I was lugging around garment bags and Starbucks orders to unknown destinations in New Jersey.  Nevertheless, at times like those, I was thinking fondly of Paris.  But I had no idea how I would ever make it back.  Or let alone, what I would ever do if so.

But what started out as a few foodie musings direct from NYC has morphed into an illustrated snapshot of my new transcontinental exploits in Paris, France.   Thefrancofly has transformed into a tremendous creative outlet, reigniting my passion for both writing and illustration.  With wider eyes, I am appreciating the beauty of Paris a little more every day, a city in which since most recently I only had lukewarm feelings for.  And if anything else, with so many wacky transitions (the phonebook of paperwork, the sky-high price of peanut butter and low-tech downgrades), thefrancofly has become a wonderful source of catharsis, making this new world a little bit funnier and a little easier to swallow.


So dear readers, if the sentimentality has not lost you already, I just want to say thank you for joining me along the way.



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