The caption above pretty much describes the way I’m feeling today. I’ve been going through my photographs from Brittany, from Paris, from New York and…nothing is speaking to me. Seriously. Nothing. I’m sure that will change, as that’s the nature … Continue reading
At some point in the last couple of months, I learned that the famous Robert Doisineau photograph, “The Kiss,” was not, as it appears, an incredible moment of luck for a street photographer. In France, an individual owns the rights … Continue reading
This was taken on the rue de Renard, on my way to the Centre Georges Pompidou to see the Gerhard Richter show with my father. In Paris I felt like being a stealth shooter with my iPhone rather than doing … Continue reading
This is the first and only photograph I took last Monday night, when I arrived in Paris for a week (I left yesterday). The best thing about it, aside from the obvious? The fact that it’s correctly punctuated.
One of the exercise classes I took while at Quiberon was something called Aquatonic, a form of aqua aerobics. I was the youngest in the class by about a decade (maybe more), and, despite whatever neuroses I have about my … Continue reading
Saturday I dragged my antibiotics-laden ass into town. The weather was somewhat foreboding. But there was a market, and that cheered me right up. I love a good market of any kind: farmer’s, flea, etc. Handmade soap in every color … Continue reading
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