I grew up in the countryside of Corsica, where flowers were not only seen — they were felt. Their perfume, their colors, their silent poetry filled every day.
Today, as an artist, I weave my photographs — mostly flowers — into delicate compositions where memory and light entwine.

Each piece is a tender act of patience, a quiet dialogue between the hand, the heart, and the fleeting beauty of nature.
Photography becomes thread, light becomes fabric.
No two weavings are alike — each one carries its own breath, its own rhythm, its own imperfection, like a song only the soul can hear.

An intimate craft, born from the gardens of my childhood, and stitched with the timeless spirit of poetry.