At the edge of an uncertain territory, where the oblique lights cling to the fallen leaves, a silhouette glides by, a contained flame in iridescent fur. The fox doesn't cross. It keeps watch. He is the silent presence that borders reality - incandescent without burning, fleeting without absence.
This illustration draws on a long-standing fascination with these boundary beings, these guardians of the threshold: spirits of the wasteland, figures with shifting reflections. It was born of the gentle tension between matter and light, animal and mineral - an opal fire on the edge of the tangible.
This deliberately stylised line, on the border between fairytale bestiary and animated memory, creates a soft, legible, almost familiar presence, somewhere between narrative dreaminess and silent suggestion.
It's a tribute to elegant cunning, to hushed instinct, to the restrained warmth that speaks louder than the flames. It's like a glow that we sense more than we see, an incandescent whisper.
Graphically, I've tried to preserve the lightness of the moment: a fine line to let the breath escape, diffuse textures like a halo at dusk, and a warm, deep, almost interior palette. Everything is suggestion.
Lisière de Feu is not an image to be observed: it's an interstice to be felt. It's for those who like discreet shudders, worlds on the edge, conflagrations that choose silence.
A self-taught illustrator, I create a soft, contrasting universe where the cute rub shoulders with the dark, inspired by deep forests, imaginary creatures and intuition.
My style - which I call 'Chiselled Cartoon' - combines clean lines, discreet symbolism and a minimalist palette. Each illustration is..
Read more…