We, the merry troglodytes, don’t furnish our cave with rocks, like Fred Flintstone, who is not a real troglodyte, by the way, but is to real troglodytes as the Venetian Las Vegas is to Italian real Venice.
We don’t dislike all modern comforts which, on the opposite we deeply appreciate since we need to feel our cave as cosy as it’s possible.
Nevertheless we remain nostalgically fond of some obsolete devices which still give us the illusion of the concreteness of certain pleasure, like literature or music expressed in tangible forms of books, CD and even archaic records.
Ah, how out of fashions we are, how out of date and how presumptuously and individualistically happy to be…




All the photos of this series, which should be considered a homogenous work, compose a visual description of my very personal idea of summer. Each photo is posted on the same day it’s taken, they have all square format.
You might see also the others, if you have time.