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  • Macro photography is nothing but an excuse for my being close to the world of small beings.
    After smelling the foul breath of McCarthyism, American photographer Paul Strand decided to tour Europe where he eventually settled in a village lying at a stone's throw from Paris. Before he died in 1976, I read an article in which he was saying, because of ill health, he was now taking photographs in and of his garden. I do remember vividly thinking: How so much smaller the world he is now photographing is! Little did I know. 
Each summer a handful of butterflies let me share their world. Using a macro lens which force me to be so near the insects I photograph, I can hear -almost- their heartbeat. I have spent 2 hours in the company of a single Monarch butterfly a few seasons ago. The above, most handsome, Eastern Tiger Swallowtail was displaying his glorious attributes during a long session. Showing his undercarriage, the top of his wings, dancing in the summer breeze for a short exercise and landing again for a further series of images. When they have sucked enough of the pollen they, in a elegant dance, leave without a goodbye and my heart skips a beat as when one says adieu to a friend. Before photographing them I had no idea a butterfly torso could be so furry. Their fragile wings could be so battered. From an image I had of them I went to a close range observation of what they really were. Time stands still while I observe them. Observing and listening, leaving no trace but filling one's heart.

    [photograph taken by jean-claude]
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