I walked away with my fists in my punctured pockets;
My overcoat also became ideal;
I was going under the sky, Muse! and I was your fae;
Oh ! Dear ! how many splendid loves I have dreamed of!
My only panty had a large hole.
– Little-thumb dreamy, I was racing
Rhymes. My hostel was in Grande-Ourse.
– My stars in the sky had a soft rustle
And I listened to them, sitting by the side of the roads,
Those good September evenings when I felt drops
With dew on my forehead, like a wine of vigor;
Where, rhyming in the midst of fantastic shadows,
Like lyres, I pulled the rubber bands
Of my injured shoes, one foot close to my heart!
Arthur Rimbaud, Cahier de Douai (1870)
The beauty of a photograph is made up of three essential angles: the frame, the brightness and the sound. My Bohemian. Work by Gokhan Altintas Photography made with his muse Natalya Kushnir on the banks of the Seine in Paris.