When God says, "I lived", we’ll all have forgotten what rhymed all these separations.

Found Lost (ongoing since 2006)

Found Lost is a collection of contemplations inspired from this last sentence of the last published novel by Jack Kerouac, Satori in Paris.

Just before my departure, a silence at the edge of a lake echoes.

Always longing for the father, who was forced to emigration by the Venetians.

Man’s freedom and his right to error are redeemed in the urban body.

Separations are also unanswered queries.

Sometimes airports make our departures ​​more bearable.

The perspective on a metropolis was found and then lost.

She closed her eyelids, but I never knew if it was a separation.

Wall Street ashtray, empty.

Between me and the Empire State Building, water and few centuries of progress.

End of an era, a separation that echoes with depression.

One empty couch and a simulation of a party!

"Your name is fading away but our separation is carved in my heart dear mother!"

Separation between present and past manifests itself by two opposite light sources.

Together in waiting but separately.

United by blood but so many trivial things that separate them!

Four pots on the upper floor in the former home of Gaetano Badalamenti, a powerful member of the Sicilian Mafia.

At the doorstep of an art gallery, when you leave behind the works of an artists that you love, there's always a feeling of longing that you carry out with you, and postcards to remind you of the distance between both of you.

United by the turquoise color and separated by the staging ...

The leaves of this mullberry tree will fall this autumn too, at the Prada Foundation, but they shall not touch the warm & humid soil to fertilize it.
Instead they will be swept away as foreign limbs.

When God says, "I lived", we’ll all have forgotten what rhymed all these separations.

Before the ruins of Mubarak's NPD building, the Nile traverses serenely through the heart of Cairo.
A crow and a black cat watches over the ghosts of a distant revolution.
Dividing time in periods, seasons, or eras, is a man's invention.

‘One naked truth’: Some turn their back on it, others ignore its existence, some look for it in the wrong places, and few face it. 
Separated categories of women in the Metropolitan Museum, New York.

Two immigrants from the former USSR, so far away, but so close to their homeland.

What separates a man from Utopia is a thorny path whose cost is incalculable.

Is this the last remaining separation wall in 'fortress Europe'?

Always hard for kids to leave the beach, especially when the sun has already set!

What separates a child's fantasy world of tales from the dark forest of the real?

Daily, a small separation from the cocoon, almost a journey.

At the end of the day a separation until they meet again in next year's celebration.

One Athenian natural balcony, but still a mixed feeling, of separation and belonging!

"Where the grass is arid grows a feeling of injustice !"
A clear separation between the world of smokers and non-smokers, but also a self-inflicted segregation.

In prospect, three strata of monuments and eras, well separated, from Athens' contemporary history to antiquity: basketball court, a Byzantine church and the Parthenon.

Before departure, journeys always seem intricate though tainted with hope.

Standing where Saint Samaan the Tanner shook the Mokattam mountain centuries ago, in this 60's decadent cabaret, what seperates me from "Oum El Dounia "(Mother of the World) are army barracks overlooking Cairo's cityscape, making sure everything stays "quiet ".

She gave me that same gaze before she left me.
With the cat, we had just met.

Separated from its natural habitat !

 A momentary separation from society!
No Athenian do look up to the sky for over a minute without making a vow about a current topic of fear and hope.

Berlin welcomed me with that scene, but group photos are usually taken just before farewells!

Sometimes ports make our arrival more pleasant!

Absence and the epic as a document, is nothing less than the end of a fictitious love story.

Sometimes in winter, a tree in bloom, at the corner of a street, suddenly relates us to the gap that separates that moment from better days.

Mist, what makes separations permeable.

Lakes separating Finland from Russia become in the winter iced-roads uniting the two countries.

In Cairo, the ruins are alongside the mythology of a changeless time.
Only one thing separates them: electricity.

Camouflaged dream of returning to where tempo came from !

How do you gaze at a woman's face when more than a lifetime separates you?