6 December, 2006 | Leave a Comment

Today I got prints made of some of my Paris photos. This is the first time I’ve gotten prints made since I bought a digital camera a year and a half ago. I don’t know why I never did it before. Now I have the prints spread out all over my bed. When I looked them over, tears came to my eyes. I was not expecting that.

I was so terribly unhappy when I first arrived in this city. Taking photos is what made me feel connected to this place. And now my memories of days spent in the Jardin du Luxembourg surrounded by autumn trees are suddenly tangible. I can hold those long afternoons in my hands, afternoons spent obsessively searching for what I knew would make me whole again if I just walked enough and took enough pictures and observed life in this city. The distraught woman who was behind the camera is not visible; she’s a memory, too, in many ways, but what she saw through her lens — the beauty of a hundred captured moments — remains.

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1. maitresse Says:

   December 8th, 2006 at 6:15 pm

   It’s a rite of passage, being desperately unhappy in Paris.

   Which service did you use to make the prints?

2. Anglofille Says:

   December 8th, 2006 at 10:01 pm

   Thanks Maitresse. Sometimes I feel bratty for even admitting I get unhappy here, but I’m glad to know it’s a normal feeling.

   I got my prints made at Photo Service. The prints look amazing and they were done in an hour. Highly recommended.

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