Perhaps we are like the amoeba on the surface of the water, when it doesn’t perceive neither the
depth of the pond, nor the outside air. As if we were hung on the surface of things. At the edge.

How meet these worlds which are slipping from our grasp ?

Sculptures, drawings, videos I made are indices of a groping research... These fragments of different nature, articulated in this way, form and draw a budding landscape.