About me
I am a Belgian of Polish descent and I live in Brussels, a city of passages, whispers and fractures. I was shaped by my grandmothers, by their fragmented stories, their silences laden with memory, and by their dignified way of moving through life without complaint. From my maternal grandmother, I also inherited a particular sensitivity to invisible presences, deep intuitions, and those subtle signs that sometimes pass through reality without ever truly being explained. I grew up surrounded by old beliefs and a discreet yet living spirituality, where the visible world was never entirely separate from what lies beyond it.
From an early age, I learned to observe before speaking and to listen before writing. Words have accompanied me since childhood, imposing themselves with the gentleness of an obvious truth. Above all, I am a poet. Poetry has never been an exercise or an aesthetic refuge for me, but a way of inhabiting the world and experiencing its tensions.
My early poems remain sheltered, like traces carefully preserved, not out of nostalgia but in honour of the path travelled. They tell of the emergence of a voice already attentive to what lies beneath people and things without ever fully revealing itself. Poetry has taught me patience, the weight of the right word, and that silence can sometimes contain more than long speeches.
What I write often takes root in lived experience. Not to expose, but to reveal wounds and the quiet beauty that finds its way into ordinary life. To put words to these moments is to try to hold them, and sometimes to soothe them. Writing thus becomes an intimate act of resistance, a way of remaining upright in the face of the world, without noise or pretence.
I keep my distance, as a sensitive observer. I pay attention to details, to the smallest gestures, to anonymous lives that cross paths without truly seeing one another. This attention nourishes my photographic work. I photograph in black and white, drawn to its simplicity and its bare truth.
My images capture street life, its fleeting moments, its anonymous presences, those gestures and glances that often go unnoticed. I seek to catch what escapes the hurried eye: the light on a wall, the fold of a coat, a silhouette disappearing around a corner. Each photograph is a suspended moment, a fragment of life in which vulnerability and silent beauty reveal themselves. Nothing is staged, nothing is manufactured: only matter, light and life as it presents itself, raw and poetic at once.
This black-and-white approach follows in the footsteps of the Polish photographer Danuta Rago (1934–2000), whose discreet and attentive gaze upon everyday life has deeply influenced me. Like her, I strive to make visible those simple moments filled with humanity, where every shadow and every ray of light tells something that words alone struggle to express.
Alongside this black-and-white work, I also practise colour photography, turning towards other spaces of contemplation. I photograph landscapes, nature, the sea and animals, drawn by light, nuances and the silent presence of the living world. Here again, it is not about demonstrating or possessing, but about bearing witness to a quiet sense of wonder before the simple and untamed beauty that surrounds us.
Between words and images, I build a bubble. A place of retreat, but also of lucidity. A space where sensitivity is not concealed but embraced as a quiet strength. Here meet fragments of lives, inhabited silences and unspoken intuitions, for those who know that silence speaks and that beauty often lies where we least expect to find it.
