Traveling in the Paris region is known to be long and often tedious; this is where I live and work. The wear and tear of the mind is never far away... Rediscovered late in life, photography allows me to maintain a rather joyful aesthetic relationship with the world, something Bergsonian no doubt. “Philosophers who have speculated on the meaning of life and on the destiny of man have not noticed enough that nature has taken the trouble to inform us about this herself. It warns us with a precise sign that our destination has been reached. This sign is joy. I say joy, I don't say pleasure. Pleasure is only an artifice devised by nature to obtain from the living being the preservation of life; it does not indicate the direction in which life is headed. But joy always announces that life has succeeded, that it has gained ground, that it has achieved a victory: all great joy has a triumphal accent." Thus of the photo, of a successful capture, in particular. All these images do not express this feeling, any more than they were all made joyfully, an inevitable setback: everyday life is not always joyful. But it is nevertheless this feeling which dominates, at least the device gives me the effect of a good coffee. Photo practice forces me to remain ultra-attentive to the most singular and fleeting moments of this daily life, which I document... As far back as I can remember, I've been fascinated by still images, mostly taken at short focal lengths

PS: given the face of the planet, the one who will take me on a plane to satisfy, far away, a “thirst for travel” (instagram or fb fuck the world of his ecocide tourism) is not yet born . I travel there...