tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50049773829376426932012-02-16T07:21:39.424-08:00I traveled through Paris creating this collection entitled "Have you seen Paris like this?" The images are very nice. But it's the stories behind them that you'll like the most.Susan McConnellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08388168182234613639noreply@blogger.comBlogger41100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004977382937642693.post-40060075792926940812010-02-09T18:56:00.000-08:002010-02-10T16:45:01.306-08:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3NS6dIo72I/AAAAAAAAA40/LmyySfCxDk0/s1600-h/IMG_3992.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3NS6dIo72I/AAAAAAAAA40/LmyySfCxDk0/s400/IMG_3992.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436780339373076322" /></a><br />The story behind <em>"C'est Paris"</em> is that in Paris it is polite and you are expected to ask permission to take someone's photograph. However, when you ask permission, the French ususally say, "No." When you don't ask permission, the French usually yell "No." I was touring this portage, one of 14 out of 400 left in Paris, and as I was leaving I figured, <em>what the hell</em>, and I turned around to shoot whatever and whomever I could. As I did, this beautiful woman grabbed this good looking guy, and kissed him, hard, right on the mouth. I have the successive scenes of them walking past me, laughing. Clearly, they knew each other. And, clearly, he was surprised. <br /><br />I think I'll give this to my boyfriend as a gift for valentines day. Maybe he'll take me to Paris! And maybe I'll just kiss him!<br /><br />This image is currently on display and available for purchase at Musée Fine Art Gallery & Market. www.museemarket.com<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004977382937642693-4006007579292694081?l=parislikethis.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Susan McConnellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08388168182234613639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004977382937642693.post-45068847669040283482009-09-29T12:13:00.001-07:002010-02-09T18:49:59.671-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3IepdwvnJI/AAAAAAAAA4k/PbPZGksYkws/s1600-h/IMG_9126-3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 376px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3IepdwvnJI/AAAAAAAAA4k/PbPZGksYkws/s400/IMG_9126-3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436441397902154898" /></a><br /><em>Paris a Noel</em> is a collection of images that I saved to release this year for Christmas. It was interesting to see that in Paris they use little blue christmas lights rather than white.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004977382937642693-4506884766904028348?l=parislikethis.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Susan McConnellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08388168182234613639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004977382937642693.post-88154727363771307772009-02-10T10:30:00.000-08:002010-02-09T17:33:11.733-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3IMD609etI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/XZcHf4vWmaE/s1600-h/8_IMG_6932.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3IMD609etI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/XZcHf4vWmaE/s400/8_IMG_6932.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436420961660140242" /></a><br />My guides did not take me to this cemetery, but Mack did. Jim Morrison is buried here but his grave pales in comparison to those standing behind Mack. I didn't take a picture of it, you would have been disappointed.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004977382937642693-8815472736377130777?l=parislikethis.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Susan McConnellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08388168182234613639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004977382937642693.post-10299039232507786202009-02-09T20:18:00.000-08:002010-02-09T17:34:08.002-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3ILbuDzWGI/AAAAAAAAA4I/sdvHl5eHPHg/s1600-h/10_IMG_4416.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_txJQw3ePZSs/S3ILbuDzWGI/AAAAAAAAA4I/sdvHl5eHPHg/s400/10_IMG_4416.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436420271037962338" /></a><br />Mack and I stopped in this little pastry shop more than once in an area called <em>La Marais</em> or <em>The Jewish Quarter</em>. Notice the yellow wedding cake shop across the way. Notice the streets made of cobble stone.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004977382937642693-1029903923250778620?l=parislikethis.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Susan McConnellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08388168182234613639noreply@blogger.com0