France Trip 2011
Molly Berg
Our first night in Paris. This was after our first dinner—not what we expected—and we were waiting on the street for the rest of our group. I saw this man with his umbrella standing in the middle of the street, almost as if he were posing for me. Even though the food was terrible, this picturesque side street reminded me of the magic of Paris.
Oh on an early morning I think I shall live forever! I am wrapped in my joyful flesh As the grass is wrapped in its clouds of green. Rising from a bed where I dreamt Of long rides past castles and hot coals The sun lies happily on my knees; I have suffered and survived the night Bathed in dark water like any blade of grass. The strong leaves of the boxelder tree Plunging in the wind call us to disappear Into the wilds of the universe Where we shall sit at the foot of a plant And live forever like the dust. -Robert Bly
Sometimes, what isn’t said is far more important than what is.
.I saw this couple in a restaurant, sitting alone by the window. Their silhouettes stood out against the light and made me wonder. What were they talking about? Were they in love? I instantly felt that a story should be written about them.
This was taken the final night of our France trip. We all snuck out of the hotel and wandered the streets until 2 in the morning. We had fallen in love with France, particularly the calm, cool nights in Nice. Oh être jeune, être libre, d'être en vie!
Alice in Wonderland
A Window of Hope
I took this photo at about 5 in the morning on board the TGV, France’s high-speed train. The land seemed to bask in the morning glow of the sun, as if the air was filled with gold. The sky and fields blended together as the train sped past them at over 300 miles an hour, giving the landscape a blur that made the ground appear like water. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before.
These incredible trees were all over France. Their branches spread out wide, like fingers grasping for the sky. They were particularly beautiful at sunset in Biarritz.
I took this photo in Nice, France. I liked how these three sets of strangers were all connected through the same action—the couple sitting down, the man and woman standing in surveillance, and the solitary man in the striped shirt—were all looking out onto the ocean. It made me think how everyone has a different story, but how every story overlaps at some point or another.
We visited Fragonard, a perfumery near Nice. This man had one of the oddest but most interesting jobs I’ve seen: making duck-shaped soap. He punched thousands of duck soaps a day.
This is Peng, my friend Camille’s penguin. He was the mascot of the trip: he went everywhere with us, never complained about the food or hotels, and always made us smile. Here he is, tucked in and ready for bed, after a long day in Nice.
It is a summer evening. The yellow moths sag Against the locked screens And the faded curtains Suck over the window sills And from another building A goat calls in his dreams. This is the TV parlor In the best ward at Bedlam. The night nurse is passing out the evening pills. She walks on two erasers, Padding us one by one. My sleeping pill is white. It is a splendid pearl; It floats me out of myself, My stung skin as alien As a loose bolt of cloth. I will ignore the bed. I am linen on a shelf. Let the others moan in secret; Let each lost butterfly go home. Old woolen head, Take me like a yellow moth While the goat calls husha-bye. Poem: Lullaby Author: Anne Sexton
―Travel does what good novelists also do to the life of everyday, placing it like a picture in a frame or a gem in its setting, so that the intrinsic qualities are made more clear. Travel does this with the very stuff that everyday life is made of, giving to it the sharp contour and meaning of art.‖ – Freya Stark
This photo book was created for Highland School Class of 2011 Senior Internships. I worked with renowned photographer Eduardo Galliani to create this work. I would like to thank Mr. Galliani himself for his cooperation and talent, Ms. Pont for her support, and my school for giving me this opportunity. Thank you.
Molly Berg E-mail: mollyberg@live.com