Three windows bring a reflection of the city in quick fragments. The first, in four quarters, panes of glass that cannot be looked through but which now act as a support for a simple creation. Painted white to hide what is happening on the other side, all I can see are these joyous characters. Strangely, I found these three females on an old building at the extremity of the Hôpital St Louis. Further along, raindrops sliding down the dusty window of a telephone booth, draw my attention to a message hastily stuck inside. A week ago I mourned the forthcoming death of this simple piece of street furniture, but here it seems that somebody has found a novel use for the structure. This is not a request though, a lost dog or a person for hire, but...a recipe! This simple act of altruism reminds me of the BookCrossing book sharing initiative, and its nice to think of a city where people leave a trail of their favourite books or recipes behind themselves (click on the photo for a full list of ingredients and instructions!).
Back home, a view from my window. The wasteland opposite my flat is still just an empty space, and has become almost an unofficial park for street artists. Looking outside, I quickly snap this amusing game of perspectives. The artist and the passer by are both oblivious to each other, divided by a corrugated metal fence, but from above I can see both. I was impressed by how the artist manipulated the brush on such a long extended pole, but am not sure what the final message represents. Interestingly, it spelled out 17H51, almost exactly the time he finished painting, but he could not have known that before he began...could he?
