The speed of the day, the calm lights of the night, the lonely streets, the footsteps, the walls.

My camera in my hands and I am the child in time.

Battered papers, faded colors, worn-out walls, intertwined times - what a striking beauty!

Art winks at me at a glance.

What is this feeling? Is it about the unexplored mind in the details we don't see? 

While my camera, my hands, and I discover the stirring desire of recreating what exists, my mind screams that art is everywhere.

I speak for the unseen details frozen in time that passes.

We are art.

​

Vtremeau