Of glass in reflections
8 a.m. at the end of twilight the sun, overflowing with its rays on a winter morning, offers me a majestic spectacle for an hour, reinforced by the silence and my loneliness in these still inanimate offices, even if I meet two morning workers, possibly the guardians of the temple; I let myself be impregnated with this place of life that I discover, with exceptional views. I am one with this privileged moment which is offered to me and which reveals to me its mysteries and its reflections, with the fascinating play of lights.
Submerged in the reflections of this glass place of a merchant of light, with infinite views of Paris, it is lost that I then think of the glass labyrinths of the fairgrounds where everything intersects and intertwines, and where as a child I I thought I was nearing the exit, but with a lot of laughter that masked my fear, I walked away.
Today, neither laugh nor fear, but it’s as if intoxicated by this almost 360° panorama that I try to break down and therefore recompose the reflections of these landscapes which bounce endlessly before my eyes, without having the possibility of being able to catch one.
Quick, you have to do it very quickly, I have less than an hour in three mornings, I don’t have time to think, I let my heart move, I draw Bam Bam Bam…
-Hello how are you ? Yes, hello, thank you and you? The hour has passed, about forty people come to settle down and get busy.
However, I couldn’t resist going back to see the sun go down…