Priorities. At midday in Les Puces de Saint-Ouen, the flea market on the north end of Paris, vendors pause their work to get down to real business. Chairs are pulled out. Tables cleared. Plates distributed. Wine opened. Proprietors come together. Friends. Families. Customers. Amidst the art and the heirlooms, the deals and the detritus, the market pauses to have lunch.
My favourite museum in the world. A single shot, just off center, tweaked to a kaleidoscopic perspective. This would be a fun print.
One of the many vendors in Beijing’s Summer Palace, selling art with traditional Chinese characters. Calendars, posters, maps, portraits, idioms — all created while you wait.
A girl walks along the tracks in Beijing’s 798 Art Zone – an entire district of former factories and industrial spaces now used for galleries and cafes.
A Christmas carroll singalong concert in the park. Mean black swans the size of 8-year olds. Casinos and strip clubs around every corner, almost as frequent as churches. There are steaming and wheezing and erupting geysers. Volcanoes. Boiling and belching mud pits. It all has an intrinsic juju that evokes the future that theologians have promised the wicked among us.