… that damn paper !
…da dare un brivido.
I can still hear the notes echoeing in the Louvre archades… The sound of a saxophone always makes me feel as if the instrument were talking to me. An instrument whose music may be as caressing as a voice.
Then I tried to keep the player unaware of my photographing him for fear he should stop playing -how selfish, eh ?!
How stupid too -I’m sure he wouldn’t have.
Once more, I felt an intruder in someone else’s life (though the familiar uneasy sensation is lessened when my lens manages to spare his/her face). As if I were stealing, rather than taking a picture -is there any difference actually ?