This is how the story begins. In January 1995, I was in Fort de France. Having just completed my first cruise across the Atlantic, I was wondering about on the island sleeping on the beach or some cheap hotel with no particular plans but not quite ready yet to fly back home. I met Olivier on the market place, attracted by his stellar tramp looks. He was selling black coral figurines on behalf of some native Caribbean fishermen he had befriended with and wanted to help out. Olivier was the proud owner and skipper of the "Cesar", a handsome sailing yacht which I was welcome to board. And so the next day we set sails en route to Saint Vincent in the Grenadines. Living on this totally deserted part of the island is beyond description. There is Richie, the boss, making sure that no one misbehaves, Morris, Robert who graced me with a portrait, Dexter ... These guys don't have a dime and won't stand a chance to leave their island, the government won't give them a passport (which is probably safer for them as all they dream of is to smuggle ganja.) Angels at home, they'd be villains anywhere else but who can blame them ? Only accessible by boat, not a tourist in sight, we spent the day and the day after, and the day after that ...fishing, carving black coral, drinking strong rum, I mean strong, and smoking our heads off. Olivier is a Belgian and makes his living, running a restaurant during the summer season on the french riviera. A hard working man and a true adventurer. We would meet again, once in Paris, where I was happy to return his hospitality, and then a year after, back in the West Indies, but that is when the story takes an unexpected turn...

Accidents in photography do not happen often, a good thing because when they do, it could mean disaster. It explains why before the time of digital photography, photographers rushed to their lab to check on results if they wanted to sleep. However, they do happen and in this particular case I was thrilled. By some very odd coincidence, Mulde, the ship I was sailing on in the Carabbeans and the day after my return to France, Christian Lacroix's Haute couture show were superimposed on the same negative. A vivid and meaningful short cut of my two lifes. The tale of Mulde, the old and rusty motor yacht must be told. I shall go back to it in a future post with photographs and sketches. But one thing first. Here is the original negative showing Mulde the ship, Suzy Lux, the skipper's wife on the deck and Olivier the third man, overlooking the couturier walking his bride at the end of the show. The story ends in Tragedy. I shall tell you how.

Accidents in Photography can be a blessing. 

Here's Marco, a friend surfer.

I dined yesterday with the mexican actor Demian Bichir. The looks of a tough guy, a heart of gold.

New works on clay. Those where made before summer but just got back from the workshop.

Things go.

But sometimes, there's just no choice. That's how things are.

A.The bedroom as it is. B.The bedroom, made up. I shot both ways. To give the editor a choice. Either way, they're both cliché.

In the news stand in December. The World of Interiors. Pierre le Tan's fabric design for Vincent Darré. La Garde Robe de Louis XVI. The last royal commission at Versailles was completed two months before the Revolution.

Amalia Rodrigues (1920-1999). I had always wanted to meet this great lady and thanks to A de CC, I finally did, at midnight, in her flat in Lisbon. When she came to open the door, I saw this very small women and hardly recognized her. It didn't match the vision of a tall black eagle, the way she looked on stage. The day after, when she appeared, dressed in a stage dress, with heavy eye liner, red lips and nails, she took my breath away. A Star ! She loved to be photographed and I loved photographing her. Why am I posting this ? For no reason. I was just thinking of her. She was a lovely and very smart person.

This is to greet the 90th follower of this blog. The talented David McGrievey illustrator famoso, and entertaining writer, which would explain his 978 followers including myself. Welcome !

I'm donating this print to a noble cause : Orphan Aid Africa. "OrphanAid Africa helps families of children at risk of abandonment and gives them secure futures within their communities. Our goal is to strengthen families and communities so they can care for their own children. We work to keep families together, send children to school, keep mothers alive and protect children by transforming systems." A fund raising lottery will take place at the Gallery Van der Straeten on December the 8th. Tickets can be purchased online here. I understand for ten tickets, one is liable to win a very handsome prize, an art piece or something from Hermes etc...the list of contributing artists and designers being rather glamorous. A good tip.

I had been to Cadaques once in the past. It was during the summer of 1993, not long after meeting Claire. Broke as usual, we drove down in her little black car with our sleeping bags and slept on the beach, which of course is forbidden. Claire looked like a Horst model and I like a skinny mariner with a black eye, Rolleiflex and sketchbook at hand. Now that I look at these photographs again, I see how well the negatives have aged and by their smooth and velvety grain, simply kill the ones taken last week.