juggling stilts

It's a pity you can't see the expressions on the children faces

Clown

There were clowns in the neighbourhood park today.

On the way home

On the way home, the sky suddenly became very dark. The metro stopped in the middle of the bridge (as usual) and the Seine waters looked terribly deep under the dreadful sky of lead. And then rain and thunder, as if it were the monsoon.

Burnt Pans

Internet has been down for the past few days. No blogging. Trying to get back on line, I wasted a lot of time. I put some rice to cook and burned the pan.

Looking at people

There was this man in the subway yesterday. A man in a blue suit. A man in his late fifties, with thin metal rimmed glasses and a soft leather attaché case. He wore on his wrist three ladies' watches. One red with strass, one pearl, and the other.... I don't know what the last one looked like. It was rather odd. Everyone tries to be as odd and original as he can these days.

More distractions

Daytime Night Club atmosphere at the Mouffetard Bowling. Many kids. Softdrinks, music and blue lights. Amateurs playing pool on a Saturday afternoon.

Distractions

One thing
city dwellers have
is a variety of
distractions
at their doorstep.




Oya reminds me
of rainy days at
grandma's place,
pulling out boardgames
from the attic.


Oya's walls
are cluttered
with games
and people
of all ages
and style
play.


No
video
games
here.

Clouds

Respect

Enough, enough, let's get back to words. This erratic patchworking of sounds and visual stuff is fun though...

I spotted this man in the metro the other day. Middle aged, fat pouting lips and greasy curly hair, dressed in jeans with a sloppy tee shirt. He held a pile of papers on his lap and was scribbling on them deftly with a red pen. He did this as without thought, in a hurry, without emotion and he looked terribly bored.

Peering at the papers he held, I realized that he was correcting university exam papers. In two minutes he had browsed through one, cluttered it with red, decided on a grade and proceeded to the next one.

I went on staring at him, thinking of how little respect he showed for all the energy, stress and work spent on writing those papers. Looking around me, I saw similar disapproving stares around me.

A young girl boarded and sat down in front of him, she too stared at the papers he held on his lap. He looked up at her, appraised her as if he were evaluating some specimen of a woman, and did the same when another girl stepped in.

I saw him again yesterday. This time he was trying to solve a sudoku with his red pen, slowly, carefully, his plump hanging lip giving him a puzzled expression. I looked at him and this time he looked at me. He seemed frightened, surprised to see me staring at him with an amused smile.

Election Day

Tunnel

Shadow walk

May Day

May day. A crowd gathers on the place holding a forest of red flags, striking against the blue sky. Amateur and professional vendors sell lily of the valleys at every street corner, either cultivated intensively for the occasion or plucked in private gardens or neighbouring woods.