Love and Solitude are not opposites, they are dialogues.
They form the emotional core of my work, two quiet forces that move through every street, every reflection, every human gesture.

In Love, I document the moments when we become two: the brief synchrony between strangers, a touch that hesitates, laughter shared at the edge of what is habitable. It’s not romance I seek, but the fragile choreography of connection, those invisible lines that make us feel less alone, even for a second.

In Solitude, I explore what remains when the crowd dissolves. An empty bench, a figure caught between light and reflection, the echo of steps fading into silence. Solitude, in my images, is not absence but presence, the moment when the city breathes alone.

From these two pillars, other themes naturally emerge. Because from love and solitude come all the contradictions of human life: distance, belonging, indifference, hope. The street becomes a mirror where tenderness meets anonymity, and where every gesture carries both intimacy and loss. Montreal, sometimes luminous, sometimes invisible, is the stage where these emotions take form. Through its architecture, seasons, and strangers, I explore the emotional geometry of urban life. Ultimately, every photograph asks the same questions:
How do we love when we are alone?
How does solitude feel when love is near?
And perhaps, how does the city hold both, without ever choosing between them?