Nichole and I are working on text for an upcoming book today, and some of my sentences were getting complicated. It was clear I was applying the proverbial lipstick to a pig – dressing up an uninspiring thought. So I scrapped it.
I started playing with an idea for a simple matrix that would keep my ass in line. I mean, I know what I should do (keep it simple, stupid!), but am human and stray.
I liked it enough to take it from notebook to illustrator and printed one for our studio. If you’re tempted to gild the lily when you’re writing, you can download a copy HERE.
Raising my glass to clear ideas!
The half-baked version …
Unlike New York and the internet, Paris sleeps. And because I’m often jet-lagged and up all night when I’m there, I get to experience the city when it’s dark and quiet.
I appreciate the silence and shadows, and those late nights are a cherished respite. A respite from the instagram-ification of everything. From staged shots of breakfasts, shoes and homes. From polished online personas. From being connected to everyone, yet feeling disconnected. From fearing that we are no more than the sum of our clicks and likes. From technology.
Paris at night – with its quiet, intimate streets and dramatic light – is my favorite place to disconnect and think. There is a wonderful weight to the stillness of the city at rest. It sharpens my senses and clears my head. I spent a lot of time over the last year walking those streets in the wee hours, and the solitude is intoxicating.
Today, I’m sharing the first images from a new ongoing series. Paris Noir reflects a retreat into the shadows. I want to spend time as a voyeur at backstage dramas rather than be an audience member at paid online performances.
I draw aesthetic and thematic inspiration from Film Noir. I love the sense of mystery invoked by dark shadows, high contrast lighting and solitary figures. I’m exploring themes of social malaise and fragmented identity to pose a bigger question: What happens when we step out of the spotlight?
Porto Rico Importing Company, Bleeker Street, New York
Even on a cold day, the aroma from the hundreds of bags of coffee inside hits you from across the street. I am never able to resist.
Planes. Trains. Carousels. Crepes.
Photograph, Nichole Robertson.