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Les fenêtres sont ouvertes

How can we create an image of our parents that respects their privacy—that is, the mystery of each individual—while simultaneously conveying the depth of the bond and/or what has been passed down? Our parents are first and foremost the people with whom we have lived. The color of memories is inseparable from the places they evoke, and there is always a house nearby. If we retrace our steps and consider these houses in the present, a wealth of stories emerges, and we learn much about their inhabitants: who they are, who they aspire to be, who they once were. How our parents live, or have lived, is also how they inhabit us.