Canal Reflections, Paris right side up and upside down
There is Paris on dry land.
And then there is Paris in the water.
That one is a little less well behaved.
Windows stretch, bricks begin to ripple, trees lose their heads. A boat passes by and everything starts all over again.
Perhaps that is why I love walking along the canals with my camera. The city seems to live a double life there.
That day, I stopped in front of this little brick building sitting quietly beside the water. Windows, a door, neat straight lines. And just below, their reflection doing precisely the opposite.
Windowpanes above. Windowpanes below.
Between the two, a few inches of water and an entire Paris beginning to float.
These are the scenes I look for without really looking when I photograph the city. Not necessarily a monument, nor the Paris everyone expects to see. More often a detail, a particular light, a coincidence. Those little moments when an ordinary street suddenly decides to become interesting.
Then you have to stop.
And take the photograph before the water changes its mind.
A book pouch, because you asked for one
This pouch came from a very practical request: how can I protect my book when I carry it in my bag?
Because a novel rarely travels alone.
Around it live keys, a phone, glasses, a charger, perhaps a water bottle, a few papers and that mysterious thing you have been looking for for the past three weeks.
Life at the bottom of a tote bag is not always easy.
With its 28 × 20 cm (11 × 7.9 in) size and generous flap, the Canal Reflections pouch fits many novels, books and notebooks, keeping them separate from the rest of your belongings.
But I like objects that refuse to take themselves too seriously, so it can happily change jobs: use it for papers, a travel journal, accessories, cables or all those little treasures you would rather keep together.
A book today. Tomorrow, who knows.
A photograph that continues beneath the flap
There is another detail I particularly like about these pouches.
I didn’t simply want to place a photograph on an object. I wanted the object to play with the image.
When closed, Canal Reflections shows this little piece of Parisian architecture mirrored in the water. Lift the flap and another scene appears, allowing the walk through Paris to continue.
A little like turning a page.
The photograph changes with the movement, breaking apart and coming together again. The textile becomes another way of looking at the image.
This Maron Bouillie book pouch is made in Paris in small batches, using my own original photographs.
A useful object, certainly.
But also a little water, a few bricks and Paris admiring its reflection.
Slip in your book.
Fold the canal over it.
And continue the walk.
