vincentdepaigne

Going from Lebanon to Syria is like changing worlds. You come from the Mediterranean, the sea, the noisy activity and cross the mountains to enter the Bekaa valley. You enter soon the desert, as if frozen in time (even my photos taken with an old camera look like old postcards...) First to Damascus and then driving along mountains towards Palmyra.... read more

I switch off my computer. Rain drops are falling and going down my window. I remember the orange lights of the streets, in the small mountain town in Mexico. Two small girls walk along the wall, small black silhouettes with black hair, on the background of this luminous wall. The computer emits a final noise before its definitive extinction. The sun had set exactly behind the small church illuminated for New Year's Day. Her laughing eyes had led me on the roof of the church, where the sun was disappearing in silence. She looked at the horizon and her small chest seemed to do likewise. The old Indians placed under the porch of the churches became quiet shapes. The tortured façade of the church, its statues hidden in the shade, seemed to disappear in the past, ... read more

On my way to India, I met with a British guy in Singapore who told me: "India, you have to deserve it" I arrived in Delhi the middle of the night. The old bazaar of Delhi was dark, with some weak lights here and there. I distinguished some forms in the night, men sleeping on the ground. I went into my small overheated room. I fell asleep under the ventilator which kept racing all through the night. In the morning, the chamber was filled with white light and the sounds of all the noises of the city, radios, showers, voices, shouts, cars, motorcycles. Only the cows kept quiet. I left to visit the place, which was dark and empty the night before, and was now full of light and life. In the bazaar, all is mixed ... read more