Hello everyone, hope you are all having an absolutely beautiful week. I am back here today to share with you some brand new content that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure creating a few weeks ago while in Los Angeles with Cartier for the launch of one of their newest icons. So as part of a collaboration with the emblematic jewelry house, I am more than delighted to share with you today a new editorial that Cibelle and I got to work together on, introducing you Cartier’s new iconic time piece : La Panthère de Cartier.
I find the idea of a watch being one of the most timeless objects a person can own so curious and poetic… A timeless time piece. Time seems to be one of the few things reattaching us endlessly to the idea of reality. The luckiest ones of us got passed on from generation to generation a watch that our mothers, grand mothers or fathers used to carry. And while the family keeps growing, these objects remain precious treasures to cherish for the ones after us. And although technology keeps improving, the idea we have of time still remains the same carrying us through life like a river’s steady stream.
Owning a watch of such symbolism, of such quality and timeless elegance feels almost like always having a link back to reality around the wrist, a reminder that no matter where we are, time keeps moving, time heals, time grows, time cleans. No matter what happens, time is on our side even though we might want to stop it from running so quickly. Time passing is the nature of hope, of evolution, of life. It is the continuation of the story, of all the stories, the ones of now and the ones of after. And as the seconds, minutes, hours keep passing by, new words to our stories are being added. Nothing seems to be a certainty, but time, time will always be and will always keep going forcing us to step forward with it.
To accompany this shoot, here is a little poem from one of my favorite writers Rainer Maria Rilke (highly recommend reading Letters to a Young Poet) called Panther. Enjoy and speak to you all very soon. K.
His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.
As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.
Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly–. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.