Love and Solitude are not opposites, they are dialogues.
In Love, I document the moments when we become two, when presence rests lightly: gestures, proximities, silent laughter, conversations at the edge of what is habitable.
Solitude, by contrast, unfolds when the frame holds absence: an empty bench, a figure among shadows or reflections, a moment suspended in waiting.

Montreal becomes the stage for both, sometimes luminous, sometimes invisible, and in every frame I ask myself:
How do we love when we are alone?
How does solitude feel when love is near?