What if I had only one day left to live — what would I do?
People may say, you only live once, so have fun.
But the definition of having fun varies.
So how do I find euphoria?
I am a traveller — though not in the literal sense of constant movement. I love travelling; it fuels my thoughts, sharpens my sensitivity, and gives me distance from myself. Travel feeds my mind. But if I had only one day left, I would not choose to go further. Not because travel is unimportant, but because I already carry too much within me. There are too many things left to say first. My life itself holds enough conflict, enough material, enough unanswered questions.
I would rather lock myself inside my cosy atelier. Experiences matter deeply to me, yet no experience alone fulfils my life. Experience is nourishment, not resolution.
What I know is this: I would regret it deeply if I couldn’t leave my voice behind, if my stories failed to remain in this world. I know I have given my life to this — I am living to convey thoughts, to transmit something that cannot exist only inside my body.
Physical creation matters to me. I am a craftsman. But a final day would not be enough to complete a new creation. If I would have had more time, I would fight relentlessly to keep creating — to keep searching for the purpose of my life through making. But with only one day left, I would spend all my remaining time leaving my insight, my philosophy, my shouts.
I am always hungry — frustrated — constantly searching for the purpose of my existence. It sounds dramatic, but this is my life. I think I was born to fight: uncomfortable things, doubt within society, interrogations of living, unstable notions. I do not accept anything that is given without understanding it. This insistence — this resistance — is a matter of intelligence for me.
I chose craft and couture as my primary tools. And yet, I have always been frustrated — too many frustrations, too many unspoken shouts. The tools are precise, but what I want to say often exceeds them.
What can I leave behind me?
The life that exists after a person is gone — the way memories remain, the way stories continue to live as traces. Thoughts can reach people across different times, perhaps across generations. Words are reinterpreted, varnished, recolored — shaped by different generations, people, tribes.
Even the cracks.
Even the weathering.
it's a determination to define my life living as an artist who wagers to send the voice to the world.
This I was here collection was started from this point.
Dedication for my after life.
Hope for the future discovery of my work by someone.
Like a Mozart.
Engrave my trace somewhere in our human history.
- I was here -
Collection Artisanale 16
Presented March 2026 during Paris Fashion Week
