Some time ago I was sent two places to visit by email, and as I found the initiative really exceptional I had to go and see for myself. Although I've got a couple of other places on the go at the moment, I often have long empty periods, so don't hesitate to email me if you know of any places in the south that I might like. This one in particular is a house whose construction was interrupted, lost in the heights of Villefranche (and when I say lost, I mean truly lost). It was a tougher series than the others, and I'm a bit dubious about the final result. A house under construction is always that certain omnipresence of cement gray draping handfuls of rooms in the making. No furniture, no wallpaper, no nothing. A canvas that could become anything I wanted - it was a challenge in the sense that if I wanted to do what I usually do, I had to be very imaginative to find things to show or tell. This monochrome of grey that was imposed on me, I diverted it - perhaps wrongly - by playing much more with color variations than on other series. Sometimes for aesthetic reasons, often to bring out what I was seeing at the time. My obsession with photography is always the misunderstanding: since I'm always seeing things that seem obvious only to me, I'm always afraid I won't be able to pin them down. I'm the kind of person who sees epic paintings in the arabesques of marble, and bringing out these kinds of visions through simple framing and settings is always a challenge in itself.