Back in October i posted that picture, not knowing too much about this métro stop and it’s decorations, only that i was enamoured by it. this morning, one of the instagram accounts that i follow, loftgallery, posted the same stop this morning with the following description:
Kiosque des Noctambules by JEAN-MICHEL OTHONIEL In 2000, a century after Hector Guimard, Jean-Michel Othoniel transformed the Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre into the Kiosque des Noctambules: two crowns made of glass and aluminum conceal a bench designed for chance encounters in the sleepy city. #jeanmichelothoniel #frenchartist #france #louvre #palace #sleepycity #KiosquedesNoctambules
The more you know!
The Wheel of Manchester, Manchester UK. 10 April 2014.
I am not at liberty to fully discuss the importance or significance of this photo, but this was taken a few days ago on a rather…enlightening trip to Manchester. While the 10th itself was unbearably stressful, the results of that day made it all worth while. [this was taken from my instagram. sorry, not sorry.]
N’oublies pas que je t’aime…
I have no idea what this building is, though, i’m fairly certain that it’s the hostel that I stayed in in Munich. if anyone has any clue as to what, exactly, this building is (or was) i would appreciate any information. This was taken by my old camera. Sometimes the prints come out beautifully; sometimes the prints come out looking like they were taken with a potato, and then there’s this. i would like to think that it falls somewhere in the former category, though, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that it was taken on 35mm and printed from there. it isn’t the best composed picture, and it certainly isn’t the most interesting picture, but there’s something about this that i really like. maybe it’s the colouring or maybe it’s the overall ambience. Maybe it’s the memories that i don’t realise that i’ve buried. i’m not sure.
[no colour correction, only minimal white balance and contrast adjustments.]
An Alley Off the Ramblas [Possibly L’Hospitalet]. Barcelona, Spain.
I love graffiti. I love travel. I love Barcelona. There were a few nights in Barcelona where I had no idea what I was doing. Those were the nights when I would walk around, sit on a bench in Plaça Catalunya and think. One of these nights, I was having a particularly bad time of it, questioning what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life, the meaning of life, why I was doing what I was doing, and whether or not ‘running away to Europe’ for a month and a half to get my head on straight was really the right course of action. I never answered any of those questions because I was distracted by people watching. Some interesting characters come out at night…I know that I thought some things and passed silent judgement about people I had never met. Homeless people, tramps, prostitutes, lost tourists, people coming off second shift, people coming in for third shift…i’ve never met these people and I will never see them again, but I was guilty of judging them. It gave me a lot to genuinely think about while I was walking back to my hostel. Then I saw the graffiti. My català was weak and very rusty, so I was pleased to see a little bit of English, ironically, the only bit of English….
“I am not defined by your ignorance.”
I hear you universe…loud and clear.
Sometimes the lessons that you need to learn are the ones that are right in front of your face.
Bonjour, Monsieur from my previous post! I caught you!
oh. wait. I’m supposed to have a deep and eloquent title for my non specific works. oh dear. no. wait. EUREKA!
French Man on Balcony Smoking a Cigarette.
L’Opéra Garnier. Paris, France.
Sometimes the best takes are the outtakes. This is an outtake from lunchtime at the opéra. I was looking to take a straight up shot of the columns with a centred balcony [judging by this, i’ve clearly failed, hence the outtake]. Every time I tried to line up the shot, the little man on the balcony would stick his head over the edge and make a funny face when he thought I wasn’t looking. This time, i was able to catch him thinking about…whatever lovely French men think about on their smoke breaks.
Banqueting House. London, England, UK
This is another one of the gems that I found during my Rick Steeves Walking Podcast of Doom. During the 17th Century, the balcony at the top of the dome [the window facing the street on the corner] was where they would execute monarchy with a crowd waiting and, presumably, cheering on below. If you’re a fan of Ruben, he painted the ceiling. This was also a part of a 17th Century palace which burned to the ground and only this part remained.
[Other than the truly fascinating history of the building, I love the juxtaposition of the red bus v the white building v the blue sky.]
If you would like to learn more about the events, the Banqueting House website has a useful timeline from the beginning of the 17th Century to the present as well as truncated histories of related monuments and how they all relate to each other. 🙂