“I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me.”
As I walked through the streets of Paris yesterday, camera in hand, I felt like a collector—a collector of stories, moments, and fleeting encounters. The city hummed with life, and every face, every scene, seemed like a piece of a puzzle I couldn’t wait to capture.
I helped some tourists – their first time in Paris- in the course of the conversation, they asked what was my favorite thing to do- I told them to leave the map behind, to get lost, and have fun. “Don’t fall,” I added, laughing. It’s the sort of advice Paris gives freely: wander the unknown, and let the city guide you.
A street vendor passed by, his presence almost unnoticed, a quiet pulse in the ever-moving rhythm of the day. His life, his story, unfolding silently in the shadow of the grand architecture.
I passed a child crying in a stroller, the sound mingling with the dog’s paws on the cobblestone, as it took a pee by the sidewalk. The father, glued to his phone, seemed unaware, or perhaps just used to it all. Sometimes, that’s Paris—these moments of juxtaposition, life’s little absurdities play out in broad daylight.
A person with brightly dyed multi-color hair-she nonchalantly walked across the street in a striking orange fur coat and red high heel boots. Her energy was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile, admiring her way of being.
And then, there she was—the Frenchwoman, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke from one hand, while the other cradled a glass of wine, as if that was the most natural thing in the world. Paris doesn’t judge it let’s you be you.
A waiter, catching my eye, motioned toward the restaurant behind him. “Go inside,” he said, “It’s far more beautiful than it looks outside.” Paris has a way of hiding its beauty, doesn’t it? Sometimes you have to step in to see it, to feel it.
And there was the bartender, leaning over the counter, asking if I wanted a drink. I smiled and shook my head. “No,” I said, “I want to take this picture.” Because, sometimes, the moments we capture are the ones we cherish the most.
Life is full of little moments, isn’t it? Every corner turned, every face met, every chance encounter—like pieces of a puzzle that come together to form something beautiful. Something real. Something that’s always there, waiting for us to notice it.
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