Trialogue

This photo essay reflects on the trialogue that came into being between myself, Léa, and the Blojiks, as well as on the dialogues unfolding within each of us. It carries the traces of the path we have walked together and the forms that emerged along the way. We are present within that journey, through our dialogues, our exchanges, and our trialogues.

I had to search for new meanings, as the old ones no longer held.

Léa had to encounter the world, to draw her own map of it, and to discover form as a language of expression.

Yesterday, she said to her mother: “Mom, give me a pen, so I can write down my thoughts.” Léa, 3.5 years old.

The Blojiks, in turn, must live their own free and independent lives—lives that remain, for me, largely unknown and beyond interpretation or analysis. Their dialogue with the world belongs to them alone, and I have neither the right nor the desire to intervene. For this reason, this third trialogue remains untouched.We do not know.