2018
Art direction, Graphic Design, Editorial Design
Personal project
Christmas is approaching, winter has taken over the banks of the Canal
de l’Ourcq in Paris, the water is around 4 degrees, and the blizzard
gnaws at the bridge. Le Canal au Bout du Fil passes through
solitude, distress, suffering, and destitution, accompanied by lines
that trace the thread of this story.
Official version:
L'hiver, la neige, le froid, a envahi ces lieux.
Dans toute sa férocité.
Il essaye de tendre la main pour un
sou, sous un pont, pour un rien.
Un rien du tout.
Un
bout.
À bout de nerfs.
La faim lui ronge les boyaux et lui
donne la nausée.
Tout comme ces gens, ce monde qui tourne.
Sa
tête tournoie.
Tournent les manèges de Noël et la misère.
Il a la rage, la rage au ventre.
Il lui suffit d'un
rien.
Un rien pour rejoindre ce canal.
Foyer rêvé, foyer
envié.
La mort ne le surprend pas.
Mais sur son visage elle
marque son effroi.
English traduction:
Winter, snow, and cold have swept over this place,
in all
their ferocity.
He tries to reach out a hand for a coin,under a
bridge, for nothing.
For nothing at all.
A scrap.
At
the end of his rope.
Hunger gnaws at his guts and makes him
sick,just like these people, this spinning world.
His head
spins.
The Christmas carousels spin, and so does misery.
He
is filled with rage, a burning rage in his belly.
It would take
so little.
So little to reach this canal—a dreamt-of home, a
coveted home.
Death does not take him by surprise,
But upon
his face, it leaves the mark of its dread.
