I was strolling by the Eiffel Tower and Trocadéro the other day, and saw this lovely little group of young American women, all primped up and ready for their photo shoot in Paris. I couldn’t resist, and asked their permission to take a few shots. After annoying them for a couple minutes as I snapped a few images, I left a card with one of them, and tossed a cheery thank you as I sauntered off. I hope they had a delightful time being immortalized in their fashionable best in front of the iron lady. Continue reading
Again out on an evening stroll along the Seine, I once more found myself armed with my camera, and free to capture as many shots as my greedy eyes so desired. I have said it before, and I’ll repeat myself over and over, Paris is beautiful during the day (especially when the sun is going at full blast), but NOTHING beats Paris at night. A special glow falls upon her just after the sunset.
I frame all my shots, and take them WITHOUT a tripod. I don’t even edit them, except for a tiny bit of cropping occasionally if my framing is a tad off, but that’s it. I like to keep my images pretty “au naturel” and not doctor them up with a lot of image editing. (Plus that’s time consuming), so I take great care in each shot, I do a lot of breath holding to keep my camera from jiggling when I press the trigger, and I use the functions on my camera do add or subtract light.
Taking pictures (although I do NOT claim to be that good) and my subject (Paris) are two of my favorite things, and when I put them together, I feel giddy with delight. I hope you like them… Continue reading
And no matter how many times I go to see the Eiffel Tower, I always always take a picture of her. She is beautiful. Weather it is against a grey cloud-cast sky, or dazzling beneath a vibrant evening blue hue, she is the star of this city, and everyone who comes her heads to her feet to pay hommage in the best way we modern humans know how : by taking her picture.
One day in February, as I was treating myself to a stroll around her gardens, I though how interesting it was to see the intense concentration on people’s faces as they captured her image. They were trance-like almost. Continue reading
Paul Bedell of Korbella™ contacted me, and with one single sentence he had my full attention : “From our pieces of Paris to yours”. These are my pieces of Paris… but… What are his?
Small, wonderful, almost magical little “jewels” cut from an actual piece of the Eiffel Tower, and integrated into stylish and elegant pieces of fashion jewelry in sterling silver, vermeil (gold plated silver) or rhodium. Paul wanted to generously offer me a piece for review, because he felt that his jewelry line and concept fit perfectly with my site. He couldn’t have been more right.
This is how Parisians celebrate what Americans call Bastille day…
Parade in the morning, most people watch it on tv, only the vigorous tourists go out to the Champs Elysées; and then others just soak in the morning sun (uuuh, rain) at a café, full of…you guessed it : tourists. Then we all go in search of lunch in tourist filled restaurants. The lucky ones go to their families house for lunch!
Then it’s the timing guessing game, on how early one must get to the chosen spot for viewing of the fireworks display… One hour in advance? Two? Three!?! Ok let’s make it a picnic so we don’t twiddle our thumbs and have sore bums by the time the show starts.
So, feeling quite smart, we arrive at the Champs de Mars (the green below the Eiffel tower) threeee hours in advance, picnic basket and all. Well we aren’t the only ones to have that SMART idea. In fact all of Paris and it’s tourists were there already; it was not easy to find a (dry) spot to plunk down on.
The wait is reduced by the activity of people watching, the French national sport, along with café sitting, and dog walking. And then one half hour before the show the late-comers arrive hoping to grab a corner of your carefully laid out picnic blanket. And by then you are so exasperated you start reminding yourself that you will not do this again next year.
But then when the sparks start flying, you forget all about the frustration and are completely captivated for a half hour by those bright shiny sparkly things called fireworks.
Vive la France!