While walking, yesterday, the violent desire to review Pereslavl, the russian countryside, the reflection of a bell tower in the river...

 

By calling, I used to sketch. The same man wearing a cap. As if I was still connected with the police. Or the army. Weird...

In my dream,I arrive in a ghost town. It's the middle of the night. I walk up to a showcase where a neon lights a blue bird.

 

A little bit of cash, a convertible and, of course, your darling...You're ready for a thrilling weekend !

 

When I took the picture, I was single. Far from imagining that I would quickly fall in love...

 

An ink stain, a petal of a rose, a cutting : it's sometimes unexpected to discover what is hidden in these little things...

 

I fell in love with a toy car when I was working in Oslo. I was bored. I gained weight. Strange days.

When I'm without ideas of pictures, I only have to look around me. In the studio, the mess is my best friend!

 

No Photoshop for my doll. She keeps her shadows, her filth, her glued hair. Who needs a perfect picture?

 

The playboys have always fascinated me. I like their nonchalant charm. I even have started collecting their photos.

 

Here is my garden, my walk, the aisles where I go when I want to breathe some fresh air...

My life as a studio photographer? A short walk to find an object. And a lot of time looking how to photograph a piece of red thread...

 

My grandfather said it needed only a second so that every second of my life turns into a dead leaf. I was terrified.

 

Last year, I've often looked out of the window. The clouds. The landscape. And the passage of time, like here in Berlin under the snow.

 

I had just arrived in London. A bit depressed, I was looking for a job. Mr Melancholy reminds me of that time.

That night, no cars in the streets. It snowed on Paris. In an old album, I've reviewed, amused, my first picture of a skull.

 

One morning in Reykjavik, I started working the modelling clay. I had only one idea. Redo the little men that I saw in my dreams.

 

Is it possible to make trendy pictures with faded flowers? I willingly admit that I don't give a damn to know the answer to this question.

 

The fairy is a gift. The daughter of a friend gave it to me when I left Moscow. Today, the girl would be in the choruses of the Mariinsky.

 

I like playing with light. She is my source of strange geometries. My sea air. My Photoshop. My madness.

 

The painting was at the foot of the bin. Why get rid of a woman who knows to dance? I have no explanation.