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Between two confinements, or more exactly between a period of confinement and then reinforced braking, Escueillens opens its doors to us, or more precisely its windows ...

This inner vision of the outside takes us back a year before, in a period when the virus, still male at the time, nailed us at home. This imposed confinement is however very relative insofar as not everyone has the chance to see the same thing from home. Indeed, very few people have the possibility of allowing nature to enter their home to the point of seeing a tree inviting itself into their living room.

Rare are also those who, from home, can get lost in an infinite horizon of greenery and lie down in thought in a field of nettles. If this nature stings the eyes, it's just to make us happier for a moment and free us from this feverish health context.

What to assert an imperious virtual displacement, just to do good in our eyes. If our window does not open on a field, it is to better reflect from inside, what could look like this white cloud filled with osties ...

This dark and closed unreal space, however, lets in the beauty of the day through its long majestic stained glass windows. And during this time the virus mutates and changes gender. This rediscovered femininity invites us to accentuate the sensitivity of our gaze and our mind. These new glasses placed on our eyes now invite us to sharpen our virtuous imagination. Like this girl filled with eternal fatherly memories, our vision now turns to the blue of your skies. Like this mother bruised by infinite sadness, you welcome you still fiercely hang up on life. Your hospitality, your sincerity, your purity and all your majesty with great humility I have worked to faithfully capture. Behind the lens of my invested device, I tried to translate your unspoken words without taboos or prohibitions. My successive trips to these places and my unexpected encounters with your inhabitants undeniably amazed me.  

Text by Jean-Pierre Lifante

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