On the rue de l’Amphithéâtre – Arles

Sweep out the cobwebs, shake out those shadows. Sometimes we need to go right back to where we started.

In Arles, after moving in and wandering the cross-caught streets, I fell fast in love with the tales of its shutters and doors. Cliché, absolutely, and some would say that I should now move beyond those facile waters…but…but…there was a day, not so long ago, when the sky was so blue that it tricked me back to the beginning of seeing one street as I had in the before of before, allowing me to dip in just one more time.

Instead of hurrying along the far too narrow sidewalk, I stepped out into the rue de l’Amphithéâtre, camera in hand and lifted. I had easily half an hour to spare before my doctor’s appointment. All was quiet, the tourists still sleeping. The light was flirting. A passer-by gave me a slight nod of recognition, someone else from the center of town. I love Arles before showtime. When history stretches and yawns before settling in to be admired.

Now I can add my own little histories to its two-thousand some years that are more patient than I will ever be. On this particular stretch alone I remember…my mom and I struggling with our suitcases on the bumpy pavement against a winter Mistral wind on an early descent from Paris to visit an apartment that would not work out. Being invited to a party where rooms opened upon rooms until fading into darkness and everyone was trying too hard to be casual. Pulling Ben and Kipling out of the way of a roaring car, music blaring, with only inches to spare. Perfect imperfect these memories, just like the patina scribbled on the surrounding walls for all to see. No need for them right now.

So I snapped back, quite literally with a click-click, present-bound and looked without judging and felt a tiny lift of joy without judgement too. The worn faces above the doorways winked conspiratorially before I turned into the shade of an alley, a short-cut but also a window closing. It is funny that it is no longer one of the more fashionable streets to live on, despite leading directly to the Arena (or maybe because of it); it clearly once was and perhaps will be again. Sometimes, we need to go right back to where we started.


 
Arles, eternal and ever the heady mix. Who says all roads lead to Rome?



Still no news about Teddy, friends. I will let you all know…
Bon Weekend.

My first photo credit

Well, I have a fun surprise to share with you. It certainly was one for me! My friend Anthony hinted a while back that he had something up his sleeve, so imagine my delight when he sent me a gorgeous magazine with an article about the new company that he is forming inside, only for me to discover that the photo used to illustrate it…was mine!

Now, those of you who have been reading here for a while know that I am not exactly a portraitist…to be more precise, I never take photos of people – ever – as I am far too shy. But there we were together, talking, at the end of a glorious afternoon where I had been photographing his amazing new renovation project and the light was streaming across his face so perfectly that I dared just a few. Of course, it doesn’t hurt when your subject matter is not only a dear friend but an occasional model as well…
Anthony especially appreciated one of the photos in particular and I sent it to him to use as he wished. As he is truly a good egg, he just so happened to get me my first photo credit and in a very cool publication to boot.
I Heart magazine comes out once every three months. Their objective is to take you to the center of a specific city as described by locals and established expats so that you too can be “in the loop” enough to push beyond the clichés and postcard platitudes to hit the pulse of the current scene. When I am fortunate enough to travel, this is the kind of “on the ground” fieldview that I aspire to, so it is right up my alley and I still haven’t finished pouring over its thick, matte pages.

The Spring 2016 issue is all about Tokyo…

…and I love all of the surprising ways that this mythic metropolis is portrayed through art about artists but also foodies, fashionistas, pop and street lore.

Because who doesn’t love to love? Or to discover a destination with a fresh perspective?
I Heart will take you there. 😉
“But isn’t Anthony…French?” you might be asking. Yes, and so is the magazine! Eh oui, c’est en français mes amis. And there are tons of tidbits spread throughout its pages about places and events of interest all over the world, not only on the featured city.
For more information about the current numéro or to order it online, click:
It is for sale not only in France but also in Austria, Germany, Greece, Italy, the Netherlands, Portugal, Spain and the UK.

I could have never imagined being published for my photography instead of as a writer! This is a serious thrill for me.

Thank you again, Anthony, for this wonderful surprise and for being such a supportive friend…
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