The moon represents fullness and is a metaphor for time passing. Through observation, the Chinese have found a way to honor the sky and link it to the earth. In China, meditation is experienced through everyday gestures: It is the art of emptiness. To be pulled into tranquility, not inertia, to understand how to internalise another rhythm of time.

Perfect Circle

I am an island in the heart of the world.

Nothing reaches me except its languid blood,

except the fear that glides beneath us all.

Silence and nothing surrounding.

Abdulah Sidran

Fear serie

In his book ‘The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals’, Charles Darwin describes the feeling of fear step by step and with much subtlety. Fear is the anxiety felt when facing or thinking about the possible danger of a threat (real or dreamed). It will in this aspect always be a simple representation of reality and not reality itself.

Seaweed serie

Dry seaweeds, draw them and engrave them in order to fossilize them as rare pieces. Keep trace of it just like all precious moments in life: flavors, aromas, sweetness. Seaweeds are responsible for half of the world photosynthesis. Breath!


The specimen of corals acquired different meanings in the history of Cabinet of Curiosities. It was initially regarded as a remedy for illnesses such as anaemia, but was also imputed magical powers, such as protection against lightning bolts or the evil eye. Its brilliant color made it an aesthetic ornament. But coral excited scientific interest as well because it was not easily assigned either to the kingdom of animals or plants, while the fact that it hardened to stone once out of the water meant it might even belong to the mineral kingdom.

Venomous insects

Those venomous insects are amongst the most dangerous on earth. Their venom is a complex mix of chemical substances aiming to kill or paralyze their preys. “When we’re alive, death doesn’t exist. When death is there, we are no more. So, why exactly do you fear death?” Montaigne.

Hikikomori & Sekentei

In Japan, Hikikomori, means literally pulling inward. When I heard about it, I was completely call out the psychosociological phenomenon and moved by the different stories and cases I red. I choose to work on glass because of its inherent duality : softness from polishing and sharpness of engraving, flakes flying. It calls ambivalent meanings.

While carving the glass, I am thinking: scratch out the marks of the past on a face sunken by the time. Rub the coats of social pressure, judgement of values, conditioning, rusted together. Scrap the painter’s block syndrom, the breaks, the failure’s fear, results requirements,… Graze the old childhood memories when there were no inhibitions. Scratch the skin already furrowed with wrinkles just to see deeper. Go out…which might be obviously one of the deepest desire of those young adults Hikikomori.


Or Shall I have written « No Exit » as the title of the French play « Huis Clos » in which the existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre, depict three characters punished by being locked into a room together for eternity.

One of is most famous and most often misinterpreted quotations is from that play : « Hell is other people ». Actually, the hell is not the relationship to the others but coming from the judgement of the others upon us and the constant ontological struggle of being caused to see oneself as an object in the world of another consciousness.

« Actually the others are the most important part of ourselves, for our self-knowledge. When we think about us, when we try to know ourselves, we use the knowledge that the others have about us, we judge with the means that they have, they gave us, to judge us. Whatever I can say about me, there is always a part of the other’s judgment inside. Whatever I feel about me, the other’s judgment enter inside. Which means that if my relation to the others is not good, I am getting myself in total dependence of the others and then I am actually in hell… »


A Window on an imaginary place such as « The Tartar Steppe » by the Italian author Dino Buzatti (Le Désert des Tartares) or «The Opposing Shore » (Le Rivage des Syrtes) in the French novel of Julien Gracq.

In the first one, the hero, Drogo, is posted to the remote outpost overlooking a desolate Tartar desert; he spends his career waiting for the hypothetic barbarian hordedesert. Without noticing, he let years and decades pass and this vain escape of time, waiting for glory, or social gratitude, because of an irrepressible fear of failure or an abyssal lack of love, leave him at death doorstep, in front of the pathetic emptiness and usefullness of is life.

In the second one, the Shore is the central figure of the fiction and delimit the licit and the illicit space, drawing a border which become a metaphoric window to a new poetic and oneiric world. The narrator bored by the immobility and silence, waiting for something to happen and untie the situation, slowly becomes obsessed with the unseen border and starts entertaining the thought of crossing it, whatever it can change, thinking that destruction may be preferable to decadence.

Both of the story, ask similar questions : what to do in front of nothingness ? Many possibilities of destiny but many choices to do. Do we need to act or to stay, waiting for something to happen, pretending nothing will happen but just enjoying world, thriving life without trying to give a sense to it? This would mean staying in an esthetic sphere, in the Kierkergaard’s outlook, enjoying the immediacy of pleasure instead of the ethic or religious state.


In this artwork, I wanted to depict walls, gates, lines and borders from everywhere in the world at different part of History. It led me to topics such as immigration, dictatorship, war,… I added a research on words which are closely related to each other despite they belong to different languages linked to those places, those moments.

Vegetal jail serie 

To enjoy the features of a matter, following it by slow movements to see where it can lead. To improve its properties adding several technique one by one as coat of thoughts : the beautifull pattern that nature can give us and which move me. It reminds me an Old French tale from the 19th century in which the trees are snapping shut behind the heroine as she is entering more deeply in the forest.