And then he turned and said, "Stop knowing me."

For reasons I cannot explain (or perhaps it's simply that I don't want to know) I am completely transfixed and awed by the photographs of Chantal Michel. She's inexplicable. She's the creator of bizarro travelogues for a nether-world where it's eternally 1963. She's the art director of my nightmares.

I find her photos pornographic, however there is no nudity (that I recall). Her use of women is shocking, but not offensive. As I said, inexplicable. Each series gives you the feeling you are looking at something you are not supposed to see--like you happened upon a crime in progress, or an open diary, or a satanic ritual, or someone else's private holiday snapshots --which is why you keep looking. They make me feel implicated. And glad I don't speak German.