I left. Nothing followed. This project tells neither a departure nor an arrival. It resides in the in-between: a suspended space where reference points falter, where exile is felt through the mundane, not the dramatic.
I photograph myself and those around me. Not to testify, but to capture the diffuse state of those waiting for grounding. The images float between interior landscapes, placeless gestures, faces marked by the gap between expectation and reality.
The room is too white. The light always returns the same. Exile dissolves into the everyday. At some point, a poem emerges—a breath where words take over from the image.
Je veux aller en France does not aim to prove or to tell. It gives shape to a sensation: being here without fully arriving.
Departure Poem:
Poems from the time of thirst and hunger. Thirst and hunger for freedom Facing oneself in front of time. Naked soul facing the arid. It is in the aridity of these solitudes that hope bursts forth, the raw flower of the deserts; white flower, brown flower, scarlet flower: its fragile petals become words. Between terrible nothingness and the future, hope emerges. Hope for victory, hope for survival, hope for existence.
Arrival Poem:
Shattered hope....
