“c’est votre cinqui?me as de pique”
“? dix, je casse tout !”

:D

when we were die-hard fans of k’s choice, my friends and i used to be silly, in a 32 – or more – degree fan attitude, and we said a lot that you get the fans that you deserve. as we noticed quite often, stupid bands mostly had dumb fans, good bands had great fans, k’s choice had among the best and worse fans, and the indigo girls weren’t counting, as far as we were concerned. :D

now, we’re not fans of k’s choice anymore. we’re still silly, though, and we still think that you get the fans that you deserve.

maybe that’s why i had such a big ego boost – as big as i was actually touched – when i first got some “fan mail” – not including solicited opinions and the people i knew beforehand of course.
it went from “i think you’re one of the future great french photographers” (yeah ! that’s what i think, too, how amazing ! :D) to “your work is so inpiring !” (wow, errr…really ?), with the basic “you’ve got talent.”, which is always nice.
so thinking that you get the “fan” mail that you deserve was damn good for my self-esteem, even if it sounds very pretentious to say so. but hey, we’re all humans.

today, i got another “fan mail”. i won’t write it down anywhere in here, first because it would be really mean, and because laugh attacks when you’re eating a pizza aren’t such a good thing for your health and i wouldn’t want to inflict you anything like this.

just know that now, when i think that you get the “fans” – admirers, whatever – that you deserve, i’m seriously considering quitting photography…:|

i’m also seriously wondering what the hell i’m going to answer…

des fois, il suffit de revoir des photos pour retomber amoureuse, comme ?a, pouf, comme au premier jour. le m?me sentiment, intact m?me apr?s tout ce temps. l’impression de replonger.

non, vraiment, je n’aurai pas d? m’acheter ce bouquin de photos sur New York.

:D

i often dream that i’m in a place i know very well. near the borders of time, everything shifts slowly and i’m becoming scared as hell. can’t find my way. home. everything i know is lost. yet so close to me. was it a turn on the right ? was it on the left ? slow down. we’re driving too fast. i can’t. but i’m the one driving. why are these houses more tall than wide ?
why am i so scared when i can finally open my eyes ?

i often dream that i have memories of some things that other people have lived. can you tell me what’s happened here ? can you tell me what’s brought me here ? can you tell me when the horizon finally tamed the ocean ?…