''Memory is the Soul's Fragrance''

Welcome to A Thread of History... transcending the conventionally ''shabby-chic'' genre, these timeless works of art reflect the gentle, evanescent beauty of man and nature, and a corresponding sense of intimacy with the past... 

Each one-of-a-kind piece will infuse your projects with a delicate blend of classic & contemporary influences, of cottage core & castle lore, while also embodying a vital eco-consciousness through the use of preloved and upcycled materials...

Weave together the threads of history and discover a unique aesthetic based upon the exploration of what the great Tarkovsky called the "spiritual category" of time...


Meditatio 9: Le parfum du temps

Fragrant Time

“The aimless life is the constant theme of Zen art of every kind, expressing the artist’s own inner state of going nowhere in a timeless moment…’ 

I think early November is probably a very good time to meditate on the meaning of Alan Watts’ words. When I think about it, it isn’t merely what one might call the melancholy beauty of Zen art which I love and which I instinctively respond to. It’s also this wonderful idea of the artist’s inner life as ‘going nowhere in a timeless moment’… This idea of living, in a sense, suspended in Time. That’s really what I have felt my whole life. And after reading this quote, I recognized that it is what I truly respond to in the art, the books, the shows I love.

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Meditatio 1: Une soif de beauté

A Thirst for Beauty

For my first official blog post on this site, I would like to write a bit about myself by way of an introduction. I could start by stating my age, my place of residence, my occupation, but I think what most accurately describes me is the fact that I spent my childhood in a North American town, somewhere south of the 49th parallel.

More precisely, I grew up in a small, suburb-like town in the province of Québec, Canada, which probably resembles a vast number of other small towns in North America. What also best describes me is to what degree I remain scarred by the pain caused by the ugliness of this place, and of North American suburbs and cityscapes in general. Row upon row of cookie-cutter houses painted in nondescript colours formed the backdrop of a town whose inhabitants seemed to move about in a haze of unknowing...


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