Pointillism

A topographic survey. Hundreds of colored points, each one a measurement, a coordinate, raw data.

On the contractor’s screen, it was nothing more than a technical tool, a necessary step.

And yet, when the image appears, I see something else. A shattered constellation, an abstract canvas, a shower of colored stars.

As I step back, the house begins to take shape. Its volumes, its edges, its breath. Not in the details, but in the vibration of the whole. Arcades, openings emerge, like stone phantoms revealed by digital light.

Looking more closely, I notice the points beyond its walls. Scattered sparks, markers of neighboring buildings. As if the house could only draw itself by anchoring into its environment, by entering into dialogue with what surrounds it.

A discreet but essential reminder: no place, no adventure, exists in isolation.

Technical precision shifts into visual poetry. Here, reality itself generates abstraction. The rigor of the worksite becomes a work of art in itself.

A cloud of points, a house in the making, and already a fragment of art.