“The sound of a light wind and bells. Silence. The sound of crumpled paper and pencil. The scent of rosemary and herbs. Slight crackling. The smell of fresh cucumber. Wind. The position between the house and the street, the proximity of terraces, green plants, which seem to be thrown into the house and fill it. The windows do not have curtains. The bustling world outside is separated only by glass which misses the daily scattered light mixed with a caramel veil descending from the long lamps hidden behind the ceiling. Gradually, the light becomes matter: it sculpts dense white shapes of the interior. Somewhere, mixed with the smoke, it congeals purring with a feline voice: I am marble. The sharpness of a lead is born from its veins. The lead outlines quickly a new home, leaving traces of its unrelenting determination. Parched strokes relieve dark dust and cover a new home with the asphalt snow. Wind still managed to sow the seeds in this house. A hospitable sound of bells met a green taste of soft tissues”.
This slightly poetic description opens up the project and talks about colors, textures and sensations created in this residential interior.