Cafés #1


There’s something about windows. What we see through them, what we can only guess. Warmth, when it’s cold outside. Silhouettes behind a veil of mist. The atmosphere, that impalpable, indefinable air that enfolds things. It invites us to pause and look more closely.

Then we imagine the density of sound and silence, and that light filtering into a corner, playing with shadows, almost dizzying. The upholstered seats, or the strange harmony of those mismatched chairs, the beauty of the tiles, the elegance of the frames. There are the reflections, there are the colors.

There are people talking, are they happy? Preoccupied? Here, or elsewhere? There will always be someone reading a newspaper, or a book, or scribbling in a notebook. Don’t think that technology has ruined everything: no, cafés remain a refuge for those souls of flesh and paper, for whom the object is as important as its content.

Haven’t you ever felt, walking down the street, that sudden call, that urge to step into that world on the other side of the window?

To look through the window of a café is to glimpse a promise, to linger over the moment, and perhaps to dare to suspend the course of things, granting yourself the simple pleasure of pushing open the door…

Reflet dans la vitre du café The Sisters Lindqvist à Karlskrona, Suède
Vue à l'intérieur de la vitre du restaurant et café Juniper à Melbourne en Australie
Vue à travers la vitre d'un petit café de Nara au Japon
Reflet dans la vitre du café Sorrento Social en Australie
Intérieur à travers la vitre du café Maranui, à Lyall Bay, Wellington en Nouvelle-Zélande


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