Stéphanie Riquois, #photographer

Consider all the shades of reactions you have in front of Instagram pictures. From boredom to enthusiasm.

  1. If you see a good pict you are tempted to explore a little of the photographer’s work.
  2. From time to time you hesitate to follow.
  3. Then you see two bad photos and goodbye.
  4. Or the talent seems to insist. OK you follow.
  5. More rare : you activate the “Tell me when there’s a new pic” process…
  6. It’s where is Stéphanie : every picture is… well, she has it, right? The eye.

https://www.instagram.com/studioriquois/

Here are 15 pictures I chose (from more than 800). It was a mess, because, well, they are all great!

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William #Eggleston about #photography

“The trouble is – whatever it is about pictures, photographs, it’s just impossible to follow up… with words. They don’t have anything to do with each other. I think you could say it has nothing to do with words”

William Eggleston

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(photos by W. Eggleston)

De facto, I think about dance, too. It has “nothing to do with words”. What you SEE is filled up with moods and what you put in it. Each of these two pictures are FULL of moods. You can here the winds, birds, pace, everything. You could write pages about this car in a Kansas like street. You’ll see nothing. Just watch and breathe…

“And he heard how I laughed with you” : Chronicle 6

Happiness is a strange thing. Sometimes we forget to laugh, then we suddenly have someone who’s able to open a box. We laugh. It’s a strange and delicious laugh. It’s THIS box opening. A new sound. Something new. And we laugh.

As a French, I learnt at school that New was pronounced NIEW. Then I talked to Americans, all saying NOO. So now I’m proud to say : “Hey! That’s new!”. Correctly said (noo) and with the “no space between new and the “!”. I find SO interesting that we French are used to add a space here : “It’s new!” -> “C’est nouveau !”.

Today I watched this hippie movie, Hair, with my oldest daughter, and she and I loved it. Then we talked about the fact that last week we watched Forrest Gump. Like if we were studying the second part of the XXth Century of the United States of America, right?

I love this beginning, from Oklahoma to New York :

 

Imagine you live in America, and your street name is in Spanish, your city name is in Spanish and your school’s name is in Spanish. What does it mean? Well, OK, nothing.

I remember my own shock when I realized that San Francisco meant Saint François, and Los Angeles : Les Anges (The Angels, sorry).

I read that a wall between Mexico and the USA would be a little stupid, because Mexican immigrants mainly come by plane. Is that true? Can someone be THAT stupid? I need a lecture.

Tonight I watched a great documentary about one of your best photographer alive : William Eggleston. If you Google Image him you’ll (maybe) understand why I love him so much : he shows (with a fabulous sense of color) something intimate about the USA, he SHOWS something. And this with a “constantly random” attitude (kids, a light, a street, a store, a car), which I adore. I was watching him “hunting” images in this documentary, with a constant “awwweeee” in my mind. The eye of a photographer is something really special. I love that guy. Here are a few pictures :

 

To finish this chronicle here is a good picture I found of Facebook yesterday.

Don’t forget how you laughed. I won’t. Ever.

Have a nice day!

 

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All the Buoys! When you fell from your boat…

I had a friend, she said to me one day : “I fell from horse”. It was a metaphor, of course, and I liked it. You’re stopped, hurt, maybe wounded. You have to slow down, and wait for the moment you’ll go horseback back, haha.

Well, you can try other moving devices metaphors. If you fall from a boat, it’s like more dangerous. You could drown ! And drown your sorrows in the same time…

Yeah, you need a lifebuoy. How will you do that, and what kind of buoyancy (oh this word!) do you need, little soul?

Watch, remember and think. Watch people around you, watch your past, your parents, friends, colleagues, stars : what king of lifebuoy do they use when then fall from horse into the water? From boat, sorry. Or plane?

  • Some buoys are dangerous or horrible : alcoholism, madness, pushing limits, drugs, workaholicness, hypercontrol (anorexia, orthorexia, religion).
  • Some buoys are… inner : Hope can bring some buoyancy (hope for better times?). Mindfulness can work if you can breathe (and you don’t get asleep). Quietism is cool, if you can build that state. You can call it indifference, OK. You can try!
  • Some buoys don’t work, most of them : you’ll drown. Goodbye.
  • Some buoys work for a small amount of time : shopping, getting drunk, daydreaming about happiness (or imagined bliss), sex, dancing and music listening, voilà.
  • My own buoy is to blog. I use what I see, what I read, to write. It helps me to organize my messbrain. It empties something. And it keeps me busy.

Keeping yourself busy is a good buoy. Finding a new domain to explore (learning a new language, a new art) or being creative (begin a blog, a novel, painting, photography?).

What will be YOUR buoy?

Friends are important. Some of them are sweet and clever enough to “help you with your buoyancy”. One knows how to be there, listens, avoids giving “advices” (“Smile, move on”, etc) and cares not to pierce your temporary, weak and thin buoy. One can ask about it, how you found it, how you use it, how it is important for you…

Then you eventually could go back on horse with this helping hand.

And take your orange lifebuoy off you : you don’t need this on horseback, you silly French!

PS : What if your buoy becomes permanent?

Thanks for reading!

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