Place of Origin: Earth, solar system, Milky way, somewhere in the universe
Class: Hobbit hippie entertainer explorer
Alignment: Subversive
Speed: Still, with impressive peaks in productivity
Special Defences: Couldn’t-give-a-damn attitude
Special Attacks: Disconcerting irony (super combo)
Quotation: “Life is divided into two parts: the one in which you fall behind in your painting and the one in which you catch up.”

First, the “Miniature”.

As I fell into the paint-filled cauldron of obsessive miniature-philia, I’ve pretty much turned my favorite obsession into my job. So I dropped out of the physical science studies to mess around with my little guys all day long, neglectfully installed myself in my workshop, a paintbrush in my mouth and my pants all stained with paint. 20 years later, my parents have proven their consistency through their resignation

Then the travels.

A bit of wandering through the french countryside has convinced me that biking is cool, that I enjoy being in touch with nature, that riding uphill is terrible, that rain is a pain and that fresh air is good for my skin tone.
Ahhhhhh, the soft scent of adventure, the sound of the wind in the spokes, the whistling of flat tires…
My bicycle has already led me to discover the African continent for 22 months and India for 6 months… with camping supplies in my saddlebags, as well as supplies to…


Bringing back from these trips something to feel.
The sketchbook is an excellent way to feel the pulse of a culture, the time to observe…
To embark on a journey and share it, it’s the risk of losing one’s curiosity, to the dire necessity of bringing back exotic images at all costs. Thanks to drawing, this happens more naturally.
We don’t approach someone the same way with a sketchpad in hand as when hiding behind a camera…

Danse and music at last.

These are meetings at first. A body, hers, and then that of the others.
Bodies of the young, aged, old, or ageless, which combine and move as they never have or never will again elsewhere…
Music turns to flesh, rhythm becomes breath.
Skin brushes up against skin, sweat and smells mingle, hips and fingers grip each other and clutch one another, faces look at each other and brighten up, bodies come closer, move away, and draw in the air the pulse of a real humanity instead of a virtual one.

Acknowledgments for the design work and webmastering : Amélie Lamirand, Aline Clabaut, David Clabaut, Philippe Jofresa, Philippe Christin, Alex Norman, Xavier Scheffer, Arnaud Leclerc, Pierre Brier, and Rodrigue Langronier.