Pumpkin Pie Paris
One thing Parisians are not... they are not cinnamon people. They veer toward almond. They are a marzipan people. For this reason alone, I can never ever really pull off being French. My shrieks of glee at cinnamon-infused treats will give me away every time.
Parisians also don't take photos of a million little things they see around Paris. They do, however, look at me taking a photo, then look at what I'm taking a photo of, then shrug and keep on walking.
No Parisian will admit to taking a photo of a pigeon.But I can't help myself. All these photo bits are ingredients for my letters.This...
Becomes that...
Which you can find at my shop, along with a slew of others.But sometimes, a photo cannot lead to anything else. A photo is the final product... especially if you're like me and go ballistic at the sight of autumnal goings-on around town.
I love how blue and orange dance together so nicely in Paris.
Some might say this is more yellow than orange. Let's call it School Bus Orange.
And this does venture into the purple hues.
This is one of a hundred photos I took of Le Mirabel. The day I bought a new camera, I stood outside Le Mirabel and proceeded to learn how to use it, adjusting levels as the sun went down and the neon lights took over. In the end, the Auto feature took better photos than I did. C'est comme ça when one is learning something new. Self must be gentle with self. Or self must try all the features, then use the Auto feature as insurance. To this day I use the Auto feature.
And some post-production digital jiggery pokery.
You know I sang that Adele song all along here. Never mind I'll find someone like you... I wish nothing but the best for you... I've always liked this shot but never knew what to do with it:
That upper window is haunting. All I really remember about this day was going to the Picasso Museum after years of waiting to open. I have seen a LOT of Picasso art in my time. All over the world there seems to be a Picasso exhibit. And that's why I think this museum is a letdown. All the good stuff is on tour. The only thing I found interesting or lovely or inspiring was this:
That's a decent envelope. And it's addressed TO HIM, not BY HIM.If you would like a decent envelope addressed to you, visit my Paris Letters shop. All kinds of Paris fun will be delivered to your door. Except marzipan. No marzipan. Ever.
