“There’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you.” Charles Bukowski.
«Combien d’étés ont coulé
Sans jamais s’aborder?
Les vélos s’envolaient
Je t’en voulais, t’en voulais
La mariée s’ennuyait
Et je me calcinais
Étrange été.» Bashung
I wont give a try this time to translate this Bashung lyrics in a rubbish English.
Plus, I only wanted to say hello to my friends here. I’ll be back. Hug & kiss.
Portrait of a friend.
“De ti la claridad como si fueras
encendida por dentro.
Debajo de tu piel vive la luna.” Pablo Neruda.
(“As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”)
“Human has always striven to retain the past, to keep it convincing; there’s nothing wicked in that. Without it we have no continuity; we have only the moment. And, deprived of the past, the moment — the present — has little meaning, if any.” Philip K. Dick, Now Wait for Last Year.
Paris, Clok’s serie (tentative d’épuisement, depletion attempt) of Belleville, portrait of a “famous” character of Belleville (well, famous for the little Belleville inhabitants — I used to steal his portrait in the subway, on this day I finally asked him — he’s dressed like that daily), portes ouvertes des ateliers d’artistes (annual open doors day of the artists studios in Belleville), May 2013.
“Voyages de rhums” (“journeys of rums”) and e-smoking.
“I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.” Haruki Murakami
Paris, Clok’s serie (tentative d’épuisement) of Belleville, café l’Escargot et rue des Solitaires, street portrait of an unknown candid, July 2013.