SEXPERIMENTAL

This time it’s in a gallery in Le Marais, Paris.
Not just for one night — a full week.

And honestly, it’s not something that stays fixed.
The space keeps shifting, changing a bit every day… almost like it’s rewriting itself while you’re inside it.

At the center — ten books.
Same ones, but not really the same.

I went back into them. Reworked, remastered, questioned everything again — through what I’ve been living lately.

And the space… it’s not about “showing” them.
It’s more like stepping into what’s behind them.

The thoughts, the doubts, the impulses, the emotions — that moment where something is still forming and doesn’t fully make sense yet.

The books didn’t become “better”.
They just went deeper.

Less about clarity, more about chasing something I still don’t fully know how to name.

I didn’t try to clean it up or simplify it.
If anything, I went further — more layers, more contrast, more shadow, more tension.

It’s not just immersion anymore.
It’s this constant movement — being fully inside it… and then suddenly stepping back and seeing it from outside.
And both states kind of exist at the same time.

The language expanded too.
Images, text, fragments, details… everything blending into one flow.

And the women — they were never just subjects to me.

They’re the center of everything.
The starting point.

Muses, presence, tension — everything comes from them.
And femme fatale… it’s not about how it looks.

It’s something you feel.

I’m not trying to explain anything here.
It’s more about creating a space you can get lost in for a moment…
and maybe recognize something of yourself along the way.

It feels a bit fictional.
But it’s all built from memory, desire, projection.

Something you don’t just look at — you step into.

It was never just a book.
More like a doorway. Into a certain state.

And at the center of it — still the same, just deeper:
falling in love with life.