Paul Saint Laurent offers a number of signed individual and series photographs for sale.
Please contact us regarding available print sizes and pricing.

To see individual photographs available in the following collections,
click on the Photo or the Gallery name.

Peg's Place
Toting a vague set of phone directions scrawled on the back of a crumpled envelope, we trek through undulating dunes, winding to the right of the grassy mound around a weatherworn rock to our left.  Hoping to eventually trip upon the ruins of the debris-covered foundation we seek, we are infused with excitement at finding our way to this vague, mysterious, cabin called “Peg’s Place.”  Lost, yet elated, our hearts race with a timid thrill coursing through our veins…no guide…simply alone...wandering in the noonday heat with no shade and little water...stumbling…seeking elusive momentarily rest… Like a poem we barely comprehend, this unfamiliar journey calls every uncertainty into question.  Amid a flurry of unanswered questions, we suppose we hear the ocean’s crashing waves only to secretly wonder if it is a distant wind which fails to
soothe the scorching sweat dribbling down our backs.  Daring our deepest doubts, we suddenly discover that summerday Shangri-La.  Slow sips from the well, a brown bag picnic, and a naked nap... a fitting reward to a torturous treasure hunt.

Wet
Air heavily laden with succulent droplets blankets the moment with glimmering drizzled diamonds…nature’s fleeting jewels. I fumble with the exposure--my lens, slippery with magnificent moisture. My heart pounding; a scant sprinkle softly tapping on my umbrella; with fleet movement, I position my tripod to capture the simplicity of it all without fear of missing any of this soggy splendor. And I share…a droplet of rain clinging to a bristling evergreen…an ominous mist densely draped between mountains. Emanating from overcast skies, revitalizing water abounds all around…coursing down my face, skipping across my lips, tickling my tongue. Damp but glistening, my soul sings...

    Architectural
   Temporary monuments to our abbreviated time here at this precise place in the far-flung universe... Thinking ourselves 
     quite grand, nevertheless, we constantly build and fight, battling earth’s reclamation of her primal elements; fearing our life
     force consumed by her infinite energy; seeking somehow to recycle work, time, and money in an elusive treasure hunt for 
     truth and value beyond gold and glory. 

        Landscapes
      Images dance across the fertile fields of my mind…trees line the scale from left to right, swaying together in harmonious
          melody, The simplicity of movement between line and shape, color and hue toys with my senses and transports me into
          the recesses of my soul... Come fly with me as we drift amid this pleasing panorama…

    Faraway Places
   Memories of bygone times... people who have floated in and out of our lives... caught up in a flood of emotions and
    experiences…was it real or a dream?  My heart begs to wander back there for a moment, to pay closer attention, to more
    vividly record every memory. Would a redo of yesterday be just the lesson we need today to cherish every moment as we
    deeply breathe in life and exhale with a smile?

    Low Light
  Glaring neon signs and sparkling streetlights welcome and bid farewell to the sun as it trips across the horizon delineating
   dawn and dusk. In the shadow hours, I often stroll the sands in Hollywood or wander along the waterfront of the magic city.
   Slicing through the quiet dampness, a myriad of exuberant reflections and glittering illuminations invite my eyes to watch
   their unfolding spectacle, but it is my lens, held steady against heavy breaths, that exploits wavering whispers of light 
                                                                  to capture barely visible images that would otherwise forever remain an unfolding mystery.  

    Flora and Fauna
  Day after day, I keep vigil, watching as the peony bud gathers strength to blossom, one petal at a time, revealing
    springtime splendor to all patient observers. In each moment, perfect progress illustrates the divine order of life.  There is
    an ideal time under the heavens that all nature, flora, and fauna discloses its absolute beauty.  Even as this lovely peony
    shall someday wither and die, its destiny of fragrant beauty shall live indelibly imprinted in my memory.

     The Old Railroad Bridge
         The rushing hiss of the steam engine is seared into my childhood memory of summertime trips to visit relatives in 
         Buzzards Bay. Now, in the early morning hours I linger by that "Old Train Bridge" reminiscing--inviting imagination to take
         me on yet another journey across this suspended rail. In town, rumors that stripers are running dispatch locals down to the
         canal to snag “the big one.”  The cold dawn’s heavy mist nearly obscures motionless figures clad in yellow rain gear
         hunkered down along the shoreline. Even though I am sorely unprepared against the elements, with camera in hand,
         I patiently await the deep drama of the unfolding day. Intent to perfectly capture the contrast between the dark skeleton of
         the erector set bridge looming against a softly unfolding pastel sky, I gaze through the lens and once again feel that
         familiar, marvelous awe.

  By the Ocean
  I come home to myself when I stand before the seemingly infinite ocean lapping softly against the shore. At one with its
   constant movement, I feel at peace before the rhythmic kaleidoscope dragging me along with a pulsating beat.  Ever-
   changing similarities...roiling waves slapping life into us like the moment of our birth. The womb of humankind, this sea is
   me. Towering palms quaff me, like an intoxicating brew, up from its shallow roots, out through its fronds, misting life upon
   the earth. Peacefully, one with the water…