The main beach on the island of Oleron, a day of August 2010 (photo MS) That day I found myself a little, Willy Ronis . I had just seen an exhibition of his pictures in Paris. My little Canon in my hand was hanging idle, as suddenly, I heard behind me a thundering, "Go," followed by "hop! hop! hop!" vigorous. Then, this band of thugs swept at a frantic pace, was thrown into the sea, out without leaving his hectic pace. I cocked and shot. I'm not there. And then, surprise, this picture fell by chance I liked, although I humbly ask forgiveness of the subjects who did not ask and end up on this blog unknown. Willy Ronis
I opened the door.
The Little Book of Willy Ronis that day (Folio) reveals just below the photos of this photographer died in 2009. There are those where it is still considered an amateur but are formidable (Montmartre at night) and others, where he missed the shot and is still posted and see that other opportunities arise, and then he picks up the weapon and 'poetic moment (Place Vendome those legs of a woman who straddle a puddle), and still others who have toured the world and where ever the subject is contacted him (Le Petit Parisien 1952 which runs with a baguette) . At that time people talked less right in the image is true, and it would have been if photographers had been the case?
The beach gives me the opportunity to return to tai chi to say that it was rarely for me the right place to practice. One year, I was bitten by an army of mosquitoes delighted to jump on their prey in the hands busy ... it is laughter that defeated me. Another time, my ankles were twisted in the soft sand ... I still had to give. But another time I overheard an advanced practitioner, alone. From a distance, I really enjoyed watching it move slowly with this strange soothed me without me trying to understand why. I did not know that discipline.
His image is now engraved in my imagination, I can not share it because my hands were bare. What a beautiful picture escaped.
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