Light & Love in Paris
Paris is romantic, and it is dirty, and it is crowded, and it is loud, but in the parks, it is quiet. Behind the gates and far from the noisy streets you can close your eyes and hear the language of people around you and you can listen to the trees and know that there is a place in the world where joy can rest beneath the sun and sit beside you.
“Every city has a sex and an age which have nothing to do with demography. Rome is feminine. So is Odessa. London is a teenager, an urchin, and, in this, hasn’t change since the time of Dickens. Paris, I believe, is a man in his twenties in love with an older woman.”
I loved to see the city from the streets, gaze at brick houses through large trees. I took photographs of so many things; of Ernest Hemingway's first home in Paris, of the garden where Gertrude Stein used to walk through in during the 1920’s, of the Champs-Élysées and of table tops with wine. I went to Paris and I came back different, better. Paris does that to you, if you let it. If you open up yourself to all the possibilities of a city that shines during the day and comes to life at night, and waves to you from the long river that runs beneath the bridges, connecting the city with it’s broken parts into a whole heart that you could come to love.