Claire Bouleau


Butch Cassidy, and Christmas Tree

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Culture Shocks

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Dust Bowl

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Navajo Land

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Braddock: Backstage

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Work Hard and Be Nice

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Today, we are back to Braddock, PA.
Why  again, some of you might be asking? There is no restaurant, no shops,  nothing!

Because I am in love with Braddock.
I love the roads on the hill overlooking the steel mills ;
I love the industrial buildings struggling with nature;
I love its dignity;
I love the feeling of power, and strength coming from the valley.
I love the whistling train beating in the heart of the dormant city;
I love the silence of the streets;
I love the idea that here was born the first steel mill in America, at the beginning of the industrial era;
I love when behind some crumbling walls, people start to be curious and open, and playful;
I love the fact that they are still here.

I love the clouds pretending to be  a Magritte.

I Love the road signs sunbathing.
I love The Vegetables growing next to the mill.
I love Dave , 51, showing up while I am photographing an old gaz station, dreaming to be a model;
I love The BrewGentlemen , coming right out of school, ready to open the first brewery  here;
I Love the fact that Braddock is still carrying dreams while weeds keep growing.

Have a good One!

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Braddock Brunch

Braddock, PA,  on a Sunday morning, seems even more empty .  Although chruches are relatively abundant: Some are crumbling, others are active. As I was taking pictures today, someone stopped his car. He was very eleganty dressed in  an ivory  suit, smelling good perfume. The  African American gentleman came to me to share his passion for photography, and show me his camera for sale. I saw you taking pictures, so I thought you might be interested. I was on my way to church, but nobody was there yet. So I decided to give it a try.
I am a priester. But I am not from here. I am from Penn.
I did not buy the camera. And it was starting to rain.
I asked him if there was any place to go for brunch around here. Mm.. In Braddock, no, you won’t find any place to eat. You have to go further there, along the waterfront.
Braddock has no restaurant. You don’t’ smell  any Sunday food in the streets.
They are shops though.
They are still full of stuff for sale in their dusty windows, but nobody to sale them, and probably nobody to buy them either.
The first  Carnegy Library is closed today. A magnificent building reminding  downtown. A few blocks away, an amazing former post office reminiscent of some happy days.
As I passed by the church of our priest friend, I see just a few cars parked there. The church is quite large  for a small service.
It is Sunday in Braddock. The town is asleep. The  active furnaces of the Valley  are still smoking. The rain drops dissipate the sweet and sour  mineral smell of the mills.
Have a good one!

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