Le jardin de mes parents
KunstBüroBerlin Gallery


My parent’s garden

Last year, I returned to my childhood back home, and I waited…

Waited, in front of the window, as I did when I was a child.

And see time go by – transparent –

Despair of an adult view, powerless in its inability to find that of the child.

Window open and closed on my past life.

« Black garden » and black trees, the burgeoning of light.

Vision of a chaotic world.

« White garden » and white trees, covered with snow, erased.

Urging need to mourn.