6:29 p.m.,  Jean-Jaures avenue, Gentilly.

In the early evening, I stop  my office work to go dancing. It’s late already, the weather is rainy. I drive by a modest old fashioned shoe repair shop, that seems to have remained the same through time. Inside, a man is standing alone, immersed in a book. I go in. Jean, the owner allows me to dance right away. But, humble, he doesn’t want to be filmed. I try a little bit to convince him, in vain :

⁃You don’t have to dance, you can just keep on reading…

⁃No…. no… I’ll be watching you. You need an audience… 🙂

⁃Right. But it would be better with you. 

⁃Really…

⁃Yes. This shop, it’s you… It is your life isn’t it ?

⁃Oh yes.

⁃It doesn’t exist without you. It would be more important if you would be there. It would show the connection : the shop and you. It’s a combination.

⁃Yes. But no… I’m watching.

⁃Ok. One day I’ll be back. You may have thought a little about it, and you may accept…

After my dancing, we watch it together. He seems pleased. We talk a little about art.

⁃Art belongs to museums.

⁃It can also belong here, in this shop.

⁃Oh yes, look I have plenty of paintings in the wall.

⁃You paint them ?

⁃No, I display them.

⁃Yes. And also, today I’m dancing here. I’m not on a stage. Art can be in everyday’s life. 

⁃Yes.

As I’m leaving, caring, he advises me to fix my hand bag’s zipper.

On day, i’ll be back. Jean may join me for a minute of dancing.