Elle regarde ailleurs.

Elle regarde ailleurs.

I was born in a small industrial town, lost in the hills of central France. It’s an interesting place, where socialist working-class France meets, sometimes clashes but mostly meshes with Algerian and Maghreb culture. Every street corner proudly sells buttery croissants, brioches, and juicy, sizzling Arab kebabs.

As a toddler, I would daily accompany my mother to the local greengrocers at the street corner of the Rue du Grand-Gonnet, run by a most affectionate and good natured Morrocon uncle by the name of Camel. As a shy little kid I would always avert my gaze when he tried to joke with me. He would smile and say every time, “Elle regarde ailleurs, elle regarde ailleurs”- “she’s looking elsewhere”.

Whilst I am now greatly fond of casual conversations with vegetable sellers, I suppose I’m still always looking elsewhere. Je regarde encore ailleurs, and from the time I was only as tall as three apples (a French expression which doesn’t translate directly, meaning someone is small in height), I’ve always been looking away, that is, enthralled by the horizon, by the new and the unfamiliar, the other.

Sometimes I get asked how I step out of my comfort zone but truth be told I feel most comfortable when I’m in an unfamiliar setting, when I’m ‘elsewhere’.

Our beautiful, messy world is always changing, and I am excited by the prospect to always seek the ‘elsewhere’, whether that’s thousands of miles from where I started, or whether it’s a few steps from my doorstep…

Massive thanks to my friend Mainak @mr_naak for the photography and good times!