In 1997, when I arrived in Paris to continue my design studies, I immediately felt like I was at the heart of a reactor. Everything that had seemed so far away was suddenly right there, within reach. Within reach of encounters.
The internet was in its infancy, just beginning to take shape, but I felt like a living witness to creative energies across all creative fields: objects, fashion, cinema, music videos, graphic design, photography, art, architecture… So much was happening at that time that all my influences began to blend together. Outside of my industrial design studies, I kept drawing for myself. Just for the sheer pleasure of it. As I had always done. As I still do. But the 90s were decisive for me. They were foundational. All that creative ferment was porous, it fascinated me so much that I felt compelled to document it.
My notebook from 1997
To take notes in my classes, I had bought various draft notebooks, the kind you can still find in stores. They’re cheap and simple. All in A4 format (21 x 29.7 cm). I picked up a promotional model with many more pages. The kind you look at and think: “Ah, this one is just waiting for me to fill it with drawings, projects, and so on…” But in the end, it just sits in a corner, barely touched. To be honest, it taunted me. What kind of project could I possibly fill so many pages with? So I simply started jotting down whatever came to mind. What I had seen or heard. Articles, images. And it became a collection of all sorts of things that normally wouldn’t belong together.
There are also project intentions, as diverse as they come. Travel notes, too. Spain. Portugal. New York. Gallery visits. Lots of reading from magazines I could finally find almost everywhere in Paris: The Face, I-D, Crash, Scene, Wallpaper, WAD, Popeye, Brutus… I would cut them out and assemble them, as if I were making my own magazine. My own art direction.
And, of course, the drawings. They come to tell stories, to mingle. I also mix techniques. I’m no longer obliged to follow just one direction. The only direction I take is to take them all. To assemble them like the emotions that pass through me.
