Passage Interdit or How to hop the Paris Metro like a Pro || Part 1 – Zeitgeist


Turnstile jumping Le Metro is the only true Parisian sport, a subtle act of resistance to help the French stay French . Everyday 145,000 of Les Fraudeurs, the fraudsters, from all walks of life take a free ride, a brush with adventure, and a chance to stick to the man by illegally entering public transit. For all the broke expats and artist for whom the monthly pass is a bridge too far $$, Passage Interdit is a walk through  for getting in, getting around and getting out with out getting caught. As an American, from a place of ridged rules and few exceptions I was fascinated by the 80 year old women duck under a turnstile, or a family of three hold the door and walk in through exit, all the time thinking … what bravery? Jumping the metro is about coming to grips with the reality and fantasy,with control and the state with loopholes and house rules with the adventure of the everyday … stay tuned.

Start By Painting on Nudes — pt2

model 2 was much more into painting

she and my girl painted much of the back ground and base coats

i can in at the end and smeared colors over it all

she was timid ways i would not expect

but the idea of the art

of being creative in it

seemed to set her free

till the again the camera was raised

she seemed to leave her eyes

results almost seem exploitative

i do not own this work

many hands laid upon it

i only created the space to breath

here i begin to play with studio light

not my forte

only one way to get better

Start by Painting on Nudes — pt 1


i have always wanted to paint

i am starting slowly

good friends like Troy Henriksen and Gaia

inspire me

make it seem tangible

i start with girls from WM

seemless backgrounds as canvas

then skin

then photo

the piece is the photo

the rest is ephemeral

at least this time

might as well start on naked women

this is a collaborative exploration

color shape structure

living art

the photo

the piece

the girl

the emotion

that have only dipped my toe

here is girl 1 of 3

she got fully nude

was compliant

distanced from the process

she was a passive figure who came alive

japanese in paris

always an intriguing blend

stay tuned for more

>i realize the childish nature

of the work

of the exploration

but a friend said to me

go back to where you last left off

guess i was 12<


Metamorphosis or Kafka as a Parisien woman scorn

Fast French women=slow motion matrix mamma to this brown eyed American boy in tow, each movement split into 7 micro seconds, 7 hands slapping, you have to rewind your mind in the evening.

Sexual energy sparking off her, I turn to shield myself in the smile of a simple stranger with a hat that say $f sparking our scheduled dialog of traveler’s tales and fond memory.

Fast French Woman=thief of sweet $F hat stranger’s boy friend while she was in SF, getting her hat.

Later, by later I mean day’s later in a squat party, I cross Fast French Woman, telling me $f hat too is there, dressed like a Nazi Harlot to reclaim her man.

$f sent the needle scratching, clicking static in the mind of men, raw sexuality showering passersby.

Takeover not makeover, how did she transform into this “blonde” nietzschean beast skulking in the bowels of this Parisian squat.

Sure she got her guy back, but to what avail, what woman reclaimed him?

Later with my lens i searched the beast, or maybe just breasts, finding neither

Frumpy French girl fragility tucked away, gone the animal who lives with in us all?

Vive La France


South of France — A Paris apart

I thought i had the french figured

oh how wrong i was

like living in NYC

then thinking you understand the american mentality

Paris is for all it’s culture

its not a laugh minute

there is a sort brooding misery

nothing god forsaken

just a constant BOF

never content

never really happy

got a job working with Joao

an ill photog in Montpelier

enter sun

enter happiness



we bumped into a restauranteur

i asked him how his day was going

he is all seriousness

with zero pretension

he said great

life is beautiful

then people

water jousted/// drank ///slurped oysters ///got wet

truly a beautiful life