At the outset of my quest lies an aesthetic concept. In between the photographic picture imprinted via crayons of light and the word itself for ever confined in essays or books.
The frame and the external apparance, the Black and the White, ths word and the light trail, brittleness and affectation, sharpness and fazziness, narrative accounts and the picture itself, the dream and history, invention and recentered truth.
Those pages are all sippled and all turn out to become lerie as the book is obviously used us a pretext for the melting of both straight and undulated lines.
Dreams all end up in a vortex, get stymied and are finally set free in the folds of the visible and the unseen, as shade gives birth to enlightening light.