Gare de Lyon
On this day we have finally left Paris. Despite the difficult conditions of the pandemic, we decided to take a break and do a short trip in France.
Our plans were to go down to Côte d'Azur to meet Cléa’s family in the city of Toulon, then move for a day to Nice before going to the Auvergne and make a stop for a week in a small provincial town where Cléa spent her entire childhood.
Waiting for our train, I left Cléa alone for a while with the luggage and decided to walk around the station hoping to take some interesting photos. Despite the bright sun that shone through the glass roof of gare de Lyon, I didn’t manage to take any great shots inside the building.
At the exit of the station, I saw the rays of the sun, breaking through the translucent visor, leaving distinct parallel lines on the wall. In addition, the railing of the exit from the subway complemented the composition with many parallel lines. The image seemed quite interesting to me, and I brought the camera to my face to take a visual note, and maybe return to this place later.
It took literally a moment for the main character to suddenly appear in my frame. Randomly, what was planned as a visual note, became a full-fledged photo with its history.
I like the position of a man with a face turned opposite to the movement of an excavator, and the hand that holds the back of his head, that expresses a sense of loss. Those who have ever looked for their train at gare de Lyon, can relate to this feeling.
This figure of a confused person fits best into the ideal world of straight parallel lines of light and metal.
Also on this day:
