Such a strange thing to happen, but now I'm accustomed to it.
Strange happenings on the banks of the river of the city I love. These things happen so often, you have to be alert, with your camera next to you at all times, on any given journey, or you risk missing the moment of your life.
This is my Paris,
No-one sees what I see ~
It belongs to me.
This is my sky,
These are my clouds,
I belong to no-one;
Paris set me free.
Be it salsa dancing or simple strolling, silent drooling or daring prancing, the Seine will deliver up these delights on a daily basis during summer.
The sole saxophonist under the infinitely echoing bridge is not unknown...
The violent violinist standing on the shack on the barge, therefore, is not a surprise.
The voice from heaven, dressed in life-jacket, black flares and shreeking hairs, grabbing the mic, attack it, goddess staring, voice despairing, never will forget the sharing...
As with my sudden incursion into the world of almost naked African dancers in front of the Mairie of the 4th arrondissement, here I was completely spirited away, although I didn't understand a word of what they were singing about, nor a gesture of what they were posturing.
It was beautiful, in any case.
© 2006 Sab Will / Paris Set Me Free