In ones daily routine there are only a few moments of total escapism, even in an cosmopolitan city as big as Paris.
One of these moments was the night of Sunday, 15.07; the night France won the World Cup.
Realising the impact this sportive event had on the population, I grabbed the shittiest camera I own and jumped right into the pandemonium.

I traveled around the city which was in the middle of a somewhat utopian anarchy. People had become one big collective.
No bias towards anybody and no fear of the camera made this an unique situation.
I felt like everyone desperately needed a tiny bit of freedom and revolution to satisfy their escapist urges, and in this night it was finally granted to us.
In my mind, the resemblance to oil paintings of the French Revolution was striking.

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