Spring flame
This series has been inspired by a poem by Gustave Flaubert.
“L’amour est une plante de printemps qui parfume de tout son espoir, même les ruines où il s’accroche.”
As the dark winter fades away, spring does not dare, and cold remains.
Similar Posts
Nature et robots
I often question myself about the nature that surrounds us. It is green, flourishing, and dying. Rocks…
A poem on your face
A post-pandemic birth, where light passes through the window, where love comes with spring. I started reading…
Pasta al pesto genovese
Fragment italien d’un été médusé. Italian fragment of a jellyfished summer. *This photo series is devoid of…
Discoball
The day is fading. Noémie turns the light. A green halo glows. On the record player, her…
Tea time at Meert
How’d you like your tea ? The famous Maison Meert welcome us with delicious pastries. Sugar rush…
Vanished present
a moment to breathe, another to hold a breath, and the present is already gone. Witness of…