I always wonder what makes me turn to look at one passer-by rather than another when I am mostly indifferent to the rest.
I observe them a few seconds and I try to imagine what they are thinking while they are walking. If I had the guts of Sophie Calle, I would amuse myself following them for a while but I don’t have this delicious audacity.
Why are my eyes drawn by these people?
I don’t think it has anything to do with their beauty or esthetics but more with their general attitude.
They all have an ‘intangible something’ that reflects into their expression. It’s like their body and face embrace entirely their personality
Read the full article on the French version of Le Journal.