Photography entered my life slowly, without intention. I've always enjoyed capturing things, but I only began to approach it more seriously when I moved abroad—first to Brazil, then Poland, later Japan, and now back in France. Being away from home made me pay attention to everything: the unfamiliar, the unnoticed, the everyday moments that often go unseen.
In Japan, especially, I found myself in a position of silent observation. I couldn't always join conversations, so I learned to read gestures, colors, patterns, and rhythms. I started seeing the poetry in small things: a quiet park, a train ride, a grandmother tying her apron. These became the subjects of my photography.
At one point, I owned a professional camera, but I soon realized it made me too visible. I didn't want to disrupt the moment—I wanted to merge into it. So I started using just my phone. My photos aren't about perfect exposure or film settings. They're about composition, timing, and the stories held in stillness.
Even back home in France, I try to maintain that same observational eye. I've returned to places from my childhood and seen them anew, through the lens I cultivated abroad. Photography is now part of how I experience life. It's not something I do—it's a way I see.
Someday, I'd love to share these images in an exhibition, or perhaps publish a book combining them with small reflections. For now, I simply enjoy showing what I see, when I see it.