The Fine Print [Studio] is all about looking at things differently. It's about discovery, wonder, and sharing. And it's a creative studio run by Linda Donahue, who uses the written word and images to tell a thousand stories.
Author Archives: lbndonahue
I find myself lost in a forest of tombs. A flock of earthbound ravens part as I walk by them on the cobbled path. Some fly to the bare tree limbs above, while others continue their foraging, undisturbed by my presence. The dead surround me, but I sense no discontent, no malice. Even beneath a […]
Paris isn’t usually about stating the obvious. But sometimes even Parisians have to call it like it is.
In Paris, walking is an art form, a past time, and a means of transportation. This man seemed to be combining all three as he made his way across Parc Monceau. I was tempted to follow him and see where he was going.
Wishing you and your family all the best and most joyful tidings of the season!
Inspiration is everywhere. Even at a holiday party at a Miami restaurant, where the lighting, shadows, and subject matter all conspired to distract me from the festivities.
Paris is a moveable canvas. It’s not just the iconic sites or the romantic architecture that inspires me. It’s also the textures, and the colors—and when the two work together, I find the result to be startling. A mindless meander through the Marais, for instance, revealed this little vignette one November afternoon.
I never gave much thought to it. Not before my trip to Istanbul, that is. But there is something incredibly fascinating about old men. Their faces have been defined by time and life. In Istanbul, this seems even more evident. The old men there move differently than their younger counterparts—but not in a way that […]
I’ve always been intimidated by the Paris flea market at Clignacourt—also known as Les Puces. It’s huge and overwhelming, full of winding alleys that seem to meander without intent. But after being led by one of the fabulous Divas of The Antiques Diva (thanks, Toma!), I discovered that the puces really did have some semblance […]
When life is relentlessly assaulting me, sanctuary is only a few minutes away. Here I find my troubles washed away with the waves, if only for a few minutes.