'Flowers grow in warm places'

'Flowers grow in warm places'

Under a symbolic canopy of a house, bathed with the reassuring sound of the daily life, a being is resting.

Everyone needs a home.
Somewhere, with just enough light and just hidden enough for us to expand until we are ready to go out .

People are like seeds. Under harsh conditions they suffer. Sometimes they die, sometimes they survive how they can but they are carrying a wound on the inside.

Everyone needs a home. Somewhere to call home. Safe, warm and with at least a bit of light to grow.

Our own feeling as a human with a right to live and to be, could be considered like the most minimal home we can carry with us. How long one can carry a sense of the preciousness of the self in a suitcase through the long road of exile ?

Seeds don't grow in the darkness. Human are like flowers.

I can't stop wars. 

I can with art give a symbolic refuge to the anonymous child, away from the broken street of the broken town of the broken life, somewhere in the peace of this chimerical house.

And perhaps encourage the viewer to empathise towards the others, the strange and the unknown flowers.