Rue Véron’s little apartment unfolds in my memories like a dark room. Every corner was open to the development of a myriad of images to be taken, shown, kept. With the creaking of the parquet, the noise of the lock, the voices down in the street like the clicks of countless shots.

Rue Véron stands for everything I save, everything I couldn’t keep and that I lost, what I would have loved to do and haven’t done yet, what I still will search for.