Browsing a book that I bought and put right on the shelf:
HCB - Paris à vue d'oeil (already an expression as versatile as it can be)
Paris right before our very eyes, Paris in a glance, Paris under the naked eye …
Paris visible, invisible, lost, found again, or as the critic puts it: On peut toujours quitter Paris, Paris, lui, ne vous quitte pas!
Browsing a book from the shelf, I was thrilled to see work unknown to my eyes, then pleased to see that even "them" the holy monsters of photography, inhabitants of the holy city of strollers and surrealists, even them walked the same paved roads and found refuge under the same bridges.
Paris, where we live amidst two dreams suicided from the top of the bridges! (photos and text by Michail)