The Eiffel Tower in all its feelings
Head in the air looks for foot on the ground. But for what ? Every body in the world is knowing you ! Not a tourist comes to Paris without visiting you or admiring your iron pettitcoats. So taking photos of yourselve, no. All has been done. Don’t believe this, she says. So, she adds : — Look at me from the fours corners of Paris. You will see my faraway beauty. After join me at the Trocadéro. You will see me in all my nearby beauty, lifted by the joy of those who are there. Seeing me confused, she adds : — Know how to look at me, to desire me, to catch me. Deserve me. But don’t go to fast. The prelude’time doesn’t have to be thoug. With restraint, I’m guetting used to you. The invitation from the iron Lady doesn’t leave me indifferent. I obey. I photograph her again. The last time, until the next. In an ongoing dialogue, she’ll say again to me : Take my picture !