Paris: Through the Looking Glass

In early 2012, I was walking across the Tuileries in Paris. I remember the moment distinctly, when I looked down and suddenly saw the winter sky, clipped trees, and a row of 19th-century buildings shimmering in a puddle. I was entranced, and felt compelled to capture this upside-down view of the city I love. Often there is nothing to see in puddles. They can be murky, opaque, and dull. But sometimes – when the rain has stopped, the mud has settled, and the sun comes out – they shimmer with promise and wonder. Through my lens, visual layers collide and merge: leaves adorn monuments, sky and clouds have palpable texture, paving stones part to reveal a secret world. And there are layers beyond the visual ones: history, memory, change. In shooting the surface of puddles, I’m also revealing depths we don’t normally see. The seeds of this project were sown years ago, when I spent a year of high school in France. For the first time in my life, I was a complete outsider, learning a new language, and immersed in a new culture. Recently, I had the opportunity to live in Paris for a few years. Without a job or community to define me, I again learned to see in new ways. It is disorienting to see Paris in its puddles – just as it’s disorienting to live in another country, to speak a different language. But by going “through the looking glass,” I find the wonders of the City of Light reflected back to me in ways that illuminate parts of myself I hadn’t seen before. The images I create feel like conversations with old friends that continue to shift and resonate.