The subway is in a sense the centre of Paris; it is its bowels. It is a crossing place for millions of people every day. Some live there, some die there, it is a place of life, of despair, of anger and yet of beauty. Every day, I look at the faces of those who travel like me and I find the faces beautiful. With the background music of Keith Jarett's piano or Janis Joplin's and Aretha Franklin's passionate singing, I move through the bowels of the metro as in a film. I dare not take pictures of my fellow travellers, so I just look at their noses, eyes, mouths and expressions, wondering at their thoughts and even at what music they are listening to.
