Artist Book
SEXPERIMENTAL
SEXPERIMENTAL
MAY 14th 2025
It began almost unnoticed.
Around seven, the bar at Laperouse filled softly. Shadows stretching along the walls. Music low, restrained, leaving space for anticipation to form. People arrived without urgency, eyes adjusting, curiosity slowly sharpening.
Then something shifted.
Ten books. One salon.
The room exhaled. Time loosened its grip.
Pages opened. Bodies leaned closer. Everyone chose their own tempo, their own entry point. No instructions. No center. Just drifting inward.
The femmes fatales moved through the crowd in Maison Close pieces. Not performing. Not asking. Simply passing by—skin, fabric, proximity. A glance dropped like a match. A spoon of caviar offered as if it were a private signal. You noticed yourself turning your head too late.
The music stopped being sound.
Deeply Dstrbd. Ivan Dorn. Stas.
It carried the room downward—slower, denser—somewhere between a pulse and a confession.
And then the collapse.
People gave in, one by one.
That oxygen-thin feeling. Eyes brighter. Breathing altered. It was impossible to locate the source—books, music, bodies, glances. Everything blended. It wasn’t falling for someone. It was falling into something.
By then, there was no edge to the night.
It didn’t end.
It opened.
Unbuttoned itself.
And stayed.
Around seven, the bar at Laperouse filled softly. Shadows stretching along the walls. Music low, restrained, leaving space for anticipation to form. People arrived without urgency, eyes adjusting, curiosity slowly sharpening.
Then something shifted.
Ten books. One salon.
The room exhaled. Time loosened its grip.
Pages opened. Bodies leaned closer. Everyone chose their own tempo, their own entry point. No instructions. No center. Just drifting inward.
The femmes fatales moved through the crowd in Maison Close pieces. Not performing. Not asking. Simply passing by—skin, fabric, proximity. A glance dropped like a match. A spoon of caviar offered as if it were a private signal. You noticed yourself turning your head too late.
The music stopped being sound.
Deeply Dstrbd. Ivan Dorn. Stas.
It carried the room downward—slower, denser—somewhere between a pulse and a confession.
And then the collapse.
People gave in, one by one.
That oxygen-thin feeling. Eyes brighter. Breathing altered. It was impossible to locate the source—books, music, bodies, glances. Everything blended. It wasn’t falling for someone. It was falling into something.
By then, there was no edge to the night.
It didn’t end.
It opened.
Unbuttoned itself.
And stayed.
May 14th 2025
at Laperouse in Paris
SEXPERIMENTAL
Artist Book
10 Unique Variations
Signed & Numbered
Price on Request
I didn’t set out to make a book.
At first, I was just collecting things—photographs, notes, conversations, ideas, moments that stayed with me longer than they should have. Over time, they started connecting to each other.
Somewhere along the way, Sexperimental became more than a photography project. It turned into a space where different parts of my work could meet: images, writing, imagination, memories, questions, and stories that may or may not be true.
I never wanted this book to feel polished or overly finished. I wanted it to feel alive.
You can open it from the beginning, the middle, or the end. There’s no right way to read it. Every page leads somewhere different. In a way, this book is less about answers and more about exploration.
The title is Sexperimental for a reason. It’s an experiment. And it still is.
Artist Book
10 Unique Variations
Signed & Numbered
Price on Request
I didn’t set out to make a book.
At first, I was just collecting things—photographs, notes, conversations, ideas, moments that stayed with me longer than they should have. Over time, they started connecting to each other.
Somewhere along the way, Sexperimental became more than a photography project. It turned into a space where different parts of my work could meet: images, writing, imagination, memories, questions, and stories that may or may not be true.
I never wanted this book to feel polished or overly finished. I wanted it to feel alive.
You can open it from the beginning, the middle, or the end. There’s no right way to read it. Every page leads somewhere different. In a way, this book is less about answers and more about exploration.
The title is Sexperimental for a reason. It’s an experiment. And it still is.
Do you have any questions? Contact us!
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collect, gift art
invest, endorse creativity
own original work
invest, endorse creativity
own original work
signed and limited editions
every set is one-of-a-kind
and will never be repeated
and will never be repeated
sealed in an envelope
includes a private message
hand-signed
includes a private message
hand-signed
2025 — Sexperimental
Artist Book
2021 — Fatal Issue #1 Independent Publication
Artist Book
2021 — Fatal Issue #1 Independent Publication
curious ?
not for everyone — just the ones paying attention