Summertime Saturdays & Sundays

A short story of whatever that was just simple fun 😉 …yet as I went on story-telling the « photo-roman » as it ended self-defining in the process. Drama of the psyche and art as Zeus’s thunder purportedly played by the god complex in each one of us.

It’s a slide-by-slide thing… if you get my pun on the matter of the selfie and culture of taking pictures and not photos. Look at the pictures and go for the text, no wait, it’S actually read while your brain reads the picture below it’s related text above. If you get hurt along the way, tough luck, go back home and cry to your mother.


  1. So it starts while lurking down our street from our pretty advantageous marvelous little Plateau balcony 😉 Montreal is such a green city! Every time we get out of our apartment we keep being amazed at how many trees are just eating up the skies and much of the view. No complaint, we’re just in love with this aspect and would trade it for nothing!IMG_0292


2. So we started walking on the Avenue… that moment when your bubble bursts is a bit of a blurr 😉 …but you quickly get it on with everyone smiling and having something to go about.



3. Except these… poor souls, waiting in line for hours for a very ordinary basic popular brunchy thingy of no spectacular output except you get ripped off and sometimes the fruit in your plate is stale if not just so unripe.

Most of the educated crowd walks around to their points of interest and mainly goes about grabbing some food and drink to go chill in one or more of the so numerous and generous parks around the area!



4. Oh, wait a minute here, how come we are back at home? Ah yeah I forgot, it’s that as may happen whenever you go out, you’ll come across artist friends like this very talented local Jérôme Bertrand Photographer… and so we come back with our baguette and croissants and have breakfast together on our balcony.



5. Back out again and wandering about, fresh veggies stalls at every two corner street of the Plateau, makes us want to grab some and get back to our balcony again!



6. Naah, we’d rather go on and get the most out of our day and… well, it’s always a fun trip to go fruit around inside that big Dollorama store close to that other end of the Avenue, which has yet another part of the Plateau life to its own!



7. Bah, so Jérôme stuck with us and to our immense pleasure of course. We have so much fun together, we’re always spinning creative ideas and taking pictures… and so yes, back to the balcony it is again :p



8.Well now I think it’s becoming obvious this did not all happen on a single day but perhaps two… So this is probably a Sunday breakfast, the next day. All that photo gear taking some space as imagined and some of the best jam in the world on our baguettes!



9. Oh yeh we had to run to the bank before it closed at 1 pm… this part is fun, I like the perspective of the underground metro transport and also the peoples faces and all… people are not the same below the street than atop… take the time to notice this next time…



10. See? Told you…



11. Oh there I am …thinking « hehehe they’ll really « fall for this look and think that’s what he looks like now »… well yes and no… I have just no care at all of what I wear and what people think they get of it. I just dress like it was dress-up time and look different every day.



12. Back out of the underground…



13. So we had to run because we figured we were way too close to closing time… yeah I overexposed, you think it’s a mistake? Think how a bit more dramatizing the shot is about the caption. Okay I admit the shot is just crap and grabbed while running… I could’ve shot it with more intent and take a few more to get something of better emotion.



14. And so the bank was closed… no wait actually we got in the bank did one transaction and then it was too late to do a second transaction because at that time the bank was now technically closed… and so after complaining on the social media scene the bank called us to apologize…



15. This is Second Cup being renovated closed down building from which wi-fi was activated and available for us to complain on the social media saying about the bank’s treatment



16. So we went back on the bus taking selfies of each other …she likes to take selfies or pictures of me and me pictures of her. We’re actually planning on getting this wrapped-up into an upcoming photo exhibit !



17. Life tells its own story upon us most of the time… And as it seems it sent us this little bear which was on the corner of the street his arms towards us like asking for a hug obviously stuck on that pedestal… just a puppet, but the message was there… you see want you want in the end anyways eh 😉



18. The life spiral kept twirling up and down and around until we got lost, or at least seemingly, in the possibilities of so many other dimensional reflections… stalked in front of this present stuck in a past whilst at least offering some mirage of what could lie ahead of us… but in the front of behind this glass where were we actually and anyways and was that of any matter actually. Unless you just enthuse in the bliss of the ignorance of right now and nothing more.



19. The easy part just to witness this and try to bring some of it back home crystallizing each other and together in the same glass through different portals… all of it through invisible schemes, even the ones we think we know as if something was real in a photograph.



20. More reflections awaiting as we stroll back down the Avenue again and again… when you just go about life and really let yourself be transported by where it leads you, you always end up exactly where you’re supposed to. And the store I like so much on the avenue had me coming, or was it life… again a reflection and this time, was included yet another reflection, the one of an instant picture taken of me… and there he, I am, caught between two slides or three… that of the prison of the shot, then of the bay window keeping it all in, although showing it, but then again we’re prisoners of the outdoor reflection as of that of our own psyche looking into itself through the vision of another: the picture.

There I am! AM I ?



21. Tirelessly going up and down this avenue like it was some sort of time corridor, a moebius band, leading us back to us on and on and while all of that we actually believe we’re going anywhere. Window-licking, lip-licking, back-and-forth, drueling for more feistily hoping for more, craving so many urges not knowing wich to fall into.



22. UGH! …and so there were no more frames at the dollar store! We were looking forward to so much more framing of our psyche, so much more liberation through the thought escape of creativity actually being some addictive loss into ourselves yet again proving we’re all going nowhere no matter what it is we figure we’d do in order to compell a stronger mirage to overcompensate the illusions…

But instead of stailing into deceit, we went on into the daring culture of the encounter and shily asked the first available clerk what the fuck was up with the absence of the yee wanted frames that had been none of on these deprived shelves for over a week now, letting him in on our repeated attempts… so awkwardly admitting to have this leisure activity to go up and down the avenue only to search the depths of a dollar store and moreover really specifically this one and no other as one would imagine would cause our demise and permanent loss. And so he disappeared into the depths of some unattainable squeaky narrow quarry down some stairs hidden behind a hidden door behind the fake plastic flowers…to come back with a box oh 24 frames, exactly the ones we had come back and forth for hours and days of the recent week or so… there they finally where and we took all half of them ion the box. The others not beeing of the color we wanted. We wanted all colors : black. Like the moebian downfall suggests, the proof of the full frame capture, that little black space.



23. Back out again, arms loaded with that dark space as idiots call it in photography. Oh how I hate how so many appropriate themselves so ignorantly and in demise of what was once known as basic technical not to be followed by the book rules but only to learn the basics, now turned into absolutes by which no one would be allowed to go without. It’sactually turning all arts into some fascisting dictatorship way of contriving your mind into « creating »… it’s like learning to walk and saying running is a disruption and disrespect to the true meaning of walk…And so came along Mister Vinci… Guillaume is well renowned world artist snobbed now by many and it’s all his fault… he decided to venture into the public and make himself available to what I just explained, that idiotic populace of superficial judgement on matters they have no right to since they handle no education of in part or in total but do defend highly their position on the febble moronic grounds of « oh you just can’t say that »… oh yes I can! It’s called specialized knowledge… and since I master things you will never understand, the same way Guillaume and so many others do, well.. I WILL. And you will not for you are not allowed. The same way I will never allow myself to judge of the works of a highly knowledgeable accountant for example… simply because I’m an ignorant to his knowledge. And should I remind you again since you know are looking for other excuses to rearrange what you can now appreciate as your deepened stupidity. I’ll remind you there is no way out of what you thought you had the right to judge whilst being completely ignorant of any related form… You may appreciate art, but unless you are a decorated and recognized practionner you should remain silent with your eyes and ears wide open until you gain enough verified basics and not peep a word above that possibly acquired database.

Everytime I come accross Guillaume it reminds me how the crowd is but an ignorant pile of dead whales on the shore. Moaning their ideas as if DaVinci had just impregnated them.



24. Pandora was found a couple of streets away… and there is so little to say. This picture closes the essay and speaks for itself.



…as all good italian movies end



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