Monday 9 July 2012

Inhale; Exhale; Smile; Repeat...


Paris iPhone Photo Chronicles
~ Inhale; Exhale; Smile; Repeat... ~



BONUS: For Street Photography Fans!

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19 years ago this would have been me. Not in a Parisian café but an American theme restaurant where I'd have to put tables and chairs out on the terrace first thing in the morning, or get them in at night. Not to mention 'shaking my tail feather' twice a night to a much detested Blues Brothers tune in the name of cultural immersion for the guests. Right.

There's something ultimately melancholy about clearing up at night; it's the end of something which can never be recaptured. Of course, if it's the end of a shitty night then good riddance to bad rubbish and so much the better, but still.

The still of the now empty terraces once bustling and fuming with life has an atmosphere all of its own. And if you're the last table to leave as the waiters slowly nibble away at your terrain like a melting iceberg you get the feeling of time running out all the more strongly.

Maybe I'm over philosophising or romanticising a simple routine task but this always happens when I observe someone performing repetitive action. Especially one where they'll be doing the opposite a few hours later. Like Eurostar drivers. I sometimes look down on them in their cabins from a strategically situated bridge, getting ready to head off under the channel to deposit their charge an ocean away, only to come back to square one a few hours later. A worthy endeavour, surely. But ultimately futile as a way of leading a life you might be tempted to think.

Stacking up chairs; unstacking them again. Chugging between Paris and London, day in day out. Going out for a drink, raising the glass, lowering it, a hundred times, going home again. Going to work every day; and home again. Writing an article; sending it. Raising the camera to the eye, clicking, lowering it. Such insignificant and banal actions make up our lives, there's no getting away from it. And in the end I guess you either accept them as and for what they are, or you try to make them more significant and less banal.

There, that's another piece written and I have no idea where it came from. Yes I have, it came from that photo above, the one of the guy and his chairs. Shame I can't tell him that his banal, repetitive actions made my day just a little bit brighter after all.


And why not...
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© 2012 
Sab Will / Paris Set Me Free - Contact me directly for photo tours, interviews, exhibitions, etc.

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