CATHERINE HEUZÉ

What are we made of?

And if our emotions were materials ... of those

world is made of?

And if black was the perfect incarnation of it because it would contain them all?

 

If fear had a texture, what would it be?

If love was a soft weave, would it hide knots?

If the sadness was porous, what sea could sink into it?

If anger was a field of cracks, what could we see at the bottom of its crevices?

If joy was a skin, would it look like blotting paper?