The most exciting european photographic event was the reason why I was there on that horrible saturday of November. I was so close to those streets of madness, eating my dinner in Rue Richer and talking about art and beauty. Who could imagine what was going on some crosses ahead.
I don’t want to be boring with the umpteenth teach or my opinions about religion, races and politics. And I won’t pray any god or for anybody now. No flowers. No flags.
But I’m a photographer. Therefore I decided to remain simply silent and darken my pages for some days. My thoughts don’t go to died people but to parents and friends still alive who’ll be consumed for the rest of their lives with the missing, in the name of the great… “nonsense”.
These images are taken on sunday walking around in the city. The Paris Photo was closed like every museum and shop. I choose to keep my camera away from the scene of the massacre in respect for the victim’s pain. Now sound down, empty your mind and try to breathe the heavy air of that day.
These images are not for sale. Feel free to share them. They belong to everyone.
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