When I was in Paris I did lots of walking around, as many visitors to Paris do. Everything seemed so surreal, a bit of a dream, a lot of magic. It has been a few years since I took this photo, and I am looking at it and realizing something odd.
The odd thing isn’t the old buildings nor the narrow ally. Street signs can be found anywhere and there is no shortage of street lamps or store-front windows. The fellow walking and smoking a cigarette is nothing really special, he could be in any street scene. The garbage cans and the cracked cement walkway, well they too can happen anywhere as well.
So what caught me, what shook my soul? It was simply the realization that this could be a street scene that could have happened anywhere, it didn’t have to be Paris. Paris, though I loved it and still do, could have been anywhere to me, it was a prop.
My emotions and enthusiasms for the place are real, I will go to Paris, or London or Berlin or other perceived exotic location and be moved by what I see. What I didn’t realize before is that the magic was not in front of the camera, but behind it. My pictures could have been taken anywhere, and now I understand the magic is in me, not out there.
Be First to Comment