Apparaître, disparaître, en deux ailes jointes, "la chute des phalènes" tente de montrer le papillonnement de l'existence humaine. Bien que gravé, fixé dans le métal orageux, chaque papillon marque le vestige de son existence, il brille de la brûlure qui le consume déjà - sa vie même fasciné par la lumière.

D'un battement, il réfléchit ainsi sa grandeur solitaire et précipite sa chute, s'effaçant dans l'espace blanc.

Lors de ce bref passage, il salue le gisant qui se porte - encore - au-dessus de la poussière. Son regard disparu semble aller plus haut, plus avant, que la brillance, que la naissance peut-être. Dans la mémoire des proches, il est pourtant déjà métamorphosé, presque détruit.

Palpite ainsi, entre être et non-être, notre existence.

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[EN]

Appearing, disappearing, like two joined wings, "The Fall of the Moths" attempts to depict the fleeting nature of human existence. Though etched, fixed in the stormy metal, each moth marks the vestige of its existence, it gleams with the burning that already consumes it—its very life fascinated by the light.

With a single flutter, it reflects its solitary grandeur and precipitates its fall, fading into the white space.

In this brief passage, it salutes the recumbent figure that rises—still—above the dust. Its vanished gaze seems to reach higher, further, than brilliance, perhaps even than birth. In the memory of loved ones, however, it is already metamorphosed, almost destroyed.

Thus, between being and non-being, our existence throbs.