What does your home represent at this stage of your life?

Right now, home feels like a cocoon. It’s a place of preparation and softness, slowly transforming as we make room for new life. Every corner feels more meaningful because soon, it will hold the laughter and presence of someone very small but incredibly important.

How has your relationship with your home shifted as you prepare for motherhood?

I’ve become more intentional. I notice details I never paid attention to before, like how the light moves through the rooms, where calm lives in the space. Home isn’t just for me anymore; it’s becoming the first world my baby will know, and that changes everything.

Marine wears Pointelle Lounge Set in Black

Are there any sentimental items you’ve carried with you through different homes?

Photographs, always. They ground me and remind me of the people and moments that shaped who I am. And a small notebook where I write thoughts and ideas, it’s been with me through so many seasons.

What excites you most about becoming a mother?

What excites me the most is the chance to create a safe, loving world for my little girl. My vision of family has always been a little fragile. I was three when my parents divorced, and that early experience shaped me more than I realized. It left me with questions about stability and belonging.

Now, becoming a mother feels like rewriting that story. It’s about building something steady, a home filled with tenderness and trust. I want my daughter to grow up feeling deeply loved and safe, knowing she always has a place where she belongs. That thought gives me so much strength and joy—it feels like the most beautiful thing I could ever create.

What has surprised you the most about yourself during this transition?

How calm I’ve become. I used to move so fast, always planning the next thing. Now, I’m learning to slow down, to trust the process, to let things unfold.

Where do you go physically or mentally when you need a moment of peace or clarity?

Physically, I love sitting by the window with a cup of tea, watching the world slow down. Mentally, I go inward, I focus on the rhythm of my breath, or on the little movements of the baby. It instantly brings me back to what matters.

How did you first get into photography?

I wanted a way to hold on to time. Photography became that for me, a way to capture fleeting moments before they disappear.

Marine wears Sheer Mini Dress in White

How do you process your films at home?

I scan everything myself. It started a few years ago when I realized how much I cared about colour - the soft, delicate tonality, the fine balance of warmth and light. I wanted to have full control over it, to make sure the images truly reflected what I had seen and felt.

Since then, scanning has become part of my creative ritual. I love shaping the gentle grain, adjusting the tones until they breathe the emotion I had in mind. In a way, it’s how I keep the poetry alive in each photograph.

I’ve learned that no one can translate that vision better than I can , so I keep the process close, personal, imperfect in the best possible way. One day, I hope to have my own darkroom, to be able to go through the full process from film to print. I’ve sometimes rented spaces to print my own work, and each time it felt like returning to something very pure a dialogue between light, paper, and memory.

Has pregnancy changed the way you approach photography or your work in general?

Definitely. Before, I was sometimes focused on perfection, perfect light, perfect composition. Now, I’m drawn to authenticity. I want to capture the raw, in-between moments, the quiet truths that make life beautiful.

Has your perspective on intimacy evolved as you step into motherhood?

Yes, completely. It feels bigger now less about just two people, more about a continuous thread that ties generations together. There’s something incredibly intimate about carrying life inside you.

Much of your work captures intimacy and love in such a tender way what draws you to these themes?

Because they’re universal. Love and connection are the essence of being human. For me, intimacy isn’t about grand gestures, it’s about those subtle moments that reveal everything.

Summer reading or movie list?

Yes I’ve been craving stories that feel tender and timeless. On my reading list, I’m diving back into Cécile Coulon’s words, I love the way she writes about solitude and resilience. I also return often to Rupi Kaur, for her raw honesty, and Carlos Ruiz Zafón, because his worlds always feel like wandering through shadowed streets full of secrets and poetry. There’s something about his writing that makes me want to savor every page.

For films, I’m drawn to those that feel like memories, soft, fragile, almost dreamlike. Lost in Translation always has that effect on me; it captures loneliness and connection so beautifully. I love Paris, Texas for its vast silences and longing, and Alabama Monroe for its raw, heartbreaking tenderness. These films remind me to look closer, to embrace imperfection.

This summer, I think I’ll revisit all of them because sometimes the familiar feels like the deepest kind of comfort.