I was born in a house full of books, and I read a lot.
My father read a book a night and slept very little, I would have liked to write one every night and never sleep. My first book: “Boy” by Christine de Rivoire, seemed to me to be a pure masterpiece. He immersed me in the world of words and that of extraordinary stories. As a child I loved Pearl Buck, because I felt like I saw and felt each word as a journey and experience in its own right. I found the power of writing magical and I started writing. I can't remember a day without writing.
I had written a manuscript at the age of twenty that Michel Rachline (at the time, the general secretary of Editions Albin-Miche) had corrected, promising me, at the Closerie des Lilas where we dined regularly, to publish it for me...The fate wanted it otherwise, and after a great sadness, I realized that this book, fortunately for me, was never published.
I wrote several books on health subjects that were not literature, then I wanted to write an autobiography in 2019, “The intuition of zero cut”, which was a real success with major literary magazines, here are the two articles, that my book received by the two most famous books critics magazines in France.
Half Zero: Smart and Light, the program that has saved thousands of lives
Inspirations
I cherish the magic of the moment, where everything comes alive. An unshakable need to express my deepest emotions—be it joy, sorrow, or ecstasy—surges through me. And to do so, I turn to the most exquisite tool humanity has ever known : Words.
Words are my muse. They carry vibrations that echo in the soul. As a child, I used to draw, attaching fragments of sentences to my artwork, as if these words were the bridge to the essence of my feelings. Over time, I realized that words alone could conjure my imagination, and that images need not always support my longing for expression.
Poetry became my lifeline, wrapping its tendrils around my heart. The world itself seemed a poetic tapestry to me, a reflection of my desire for everything to be beautiful, soft, and serene. Love, the senses, the yearning to gaze upon the infinite, to give thanks, to immerse myself in the eternal flow of the universe.
Writing became my sanctuary, the outlet for my hopes, dreams, and desires, scrawled across every chapter of my life. Thanks to an imagination unbound, wild, and all-encompassing, gifted by the heavens, my pen transformed into an extension of my soul’s faith.
For eight years, I composed spoken-word poetry alongside Emmanuel Reverdi, the father of my children and a brilliant contemporary composer. In this time, one of my childhood dreams materialized : we released two spoken-word albums, nurtured by the vision of Gilbert Castro, a music lover born in Tunis and head of the largest independent label in Paris. These works were immortalized by the father of French publishing himself, Jean Davoust.
Music elevated me, giving me access to the hidden chambers of my heart, yet curiously, not quite reaching the depths of my soul. Something was always missing. It was only when I stepped away from the world of music and into the realm of theater that I felt a more profound connection—an emotion kindled through the understanding and interpretation of words that were not my own. Under the guidance of Valérie Antoniévitch at the Cours Florent, I unearthed hidden facets of myself. She urged me to unlock the emotions trapped in an aching body, and thus, I birthed my first theatrical monologues, Chairs et Émotions.
The play was a symphony of emotion, performed so intensely by the actors in my group that I felt compelled to capture their essence on film—not as actors, but as raw beings, stripped of artifice. For four unforgettable days, I filmed them intimately, sometimes astride their backs as they lay in the grass, following every movement, every fleeting glance, as I sought to uncover the vibrant secrets of their souls. Immersed in nature, they became as dazzling as the landscape that enveloped them.
The eight hours of footage from those magical days remain unedited, waiting for me to grow just a little more, to fully honor the richness of these extraordinary souls.
In the theater, I felt the raw beauty of their emotions—bodies in motion, tears, and free gestures—each one pouring their entire being into the performance. Through this collective act, they delivered the immensity of their souls, and that of the author’s, channeling the group’s energy and the power of words.
I love people, deeply. Those close to me and those distant ; I love them all. I love the world I inhabit, despite the chaos and absurdities that often fill it. I love life. I love my life and the fleeting moments that make up its intricate journey. Moments that pass in an instant, yet leave eternal imprints on our hearts.
Then came my two short films, which you will find here. I adore these two modest creations—not for their technical mastery, nor their visual brilliance, for they were filmed on a simple phone—but because they capture precious moments in my life that I absolutely needed to preserve. I had neither the means nor the desire to seek Hollywood’s approval or a producer’s backing. These were intimate stories, and I was the only actor required. The magic of the moment demanded no more than a phone’s lens to immortalize the euphony of my heart and soul, even through blurred images and imperfect sounds.
The first film, Heartbroken in London, is chaotic and raw, a visceral expression of the disarray when the father of my children left. Yet it also provides an objective mirror, allowing me to reflect on myself through my own eyes, rather than through the guilt-ridden lens of abandonment. And, like life itself, it carries a hopeful ending, for life must continue to flow and rebound, stronger and purer after the tremors pass.
The second, Out of Basarabia, is an ode to serenity regained. It captures the sunshine of a pure and loving soul, the peaceful embrace of a magical hill overlooking a city steeped in myth and history. It is a celebration of peace, warmth, love, and the fusion of two worlds—one of departure, our eternal essence, and the other, a source of inspiration, the world we wish to inhabit. These two worlds, once distant, merge into one through the harmony of understanding and the acceptance of our differences, because, in the end, our hearts and souls share more than just what sets us apart.
Don’t focus on the images. These are spoken-word films ; close your eyes, and let the words guide you.
Don't linger on the images. These films are spoken word; close your eyes and let the words carry you.
And because I love people, deeply, so deeply, I wanted to write for those who suffer from an affliction that also consumed me in my childhood—obesity. I created a program, Smart and Light, and wrote several books, which you can find in the 'Appendix' section of the bottom menu… But they are also available on Amazon.