Unexpected or Assembled
This series of images is united by the thread of discovery and wonder which can appear in otherwise familiar settings of everyday life and trigger a needed smile, or serve as a reminder how the surprise of inspiration can emerge unexpectedly and in many different forms.
I spotted this walking home one evening on a street off of rue Bonaparte in Paris, where antique shops and rare book dealers lovingly light their windows to dramatic effect. This theatrical vignette seemed like a beautiful Valentine to offer my parents, who were longtime book publishers, and the original is printed on textured Japanese Mulberry paper.
Another Paris street spotting moment, on a typical grey day. In light of how carefully curated Paris windows often are, a chance wrong turn found me on a new street and discovering this unusual choice of papering a window with these strong pops of color which seemed witty and even defiantly subversive.
On a midtown New York street, way west, almost at the river was this nondescript business with tiny signage and dusty venetian blinds shielding view to the inside. I saw it from the other side of the street; it was always closed when I walked by -- I guess always on a Sunday. The most recent time, however, I crossed to take a closer look, and discovered the line-up of toy cars almost unnoticeable unless you were standing in front of them. The playful array seemed at odds with the otherwise no nonsense presentation and I was utterly charmed.
Another Paris window, which by displaying disparate, weathered signage letters to create a decisive, if cryptic, personal message seemed like a smart wink for a passerby to see and the colors were in just the right harmony with the 50's furniture bedside them.
A few years ago, during a walk around dusk, in New York City's Chelsea neighborhood, I heard what sounded like a Chopin Nocturne from somewhere above and looked up, only to see this vintage wedding dress seemingly floating in mid-air. The light reminded me of a Magritte painting and this tongue-in-cheek presentation of such an iconic wardrobe piece with people walking by below, unaware of its presence, instantly made me smile.
When a bulky box of these tiny gold pins fell off a shelf onto my cement studio floor, I growled as the pins fell out and scattered everywhere. As I began to scrape them up, I realized that the impact of landing had created a familiar shape. I simply coaxed it further with my tiny dustpan and broom into a more visible rendering of a heart to suggest the complexities associated with that form and the components of the pins themselves.
Isle sur la Sorgue in the South of France is known for its Sunday flea market. One such Sunday, I noticed some well-worn paint brushes jutting from vintage flower frogs, tucked away in a corner. I moved a few, placing them in front of an antique sign and Voila! It transformed into a fortuitous combination.
