One idle afternoon, I found myself wandering through the oldest cemetery in Reims. I had already been many times, I had taken all the decent pictures, explored it all I thought. Whilst walking through the tombs and trees, I remembered spending time there with a classmate as our high school was situated nearby. I recalled looking at the funeral art and marvelling at some of the sculptures whilst trying not to be spooked by the gothic allure of our afternoon, and I liked to think that we seemed to appreciate its intrinsic beauty despite our youth.

Presently, thinking I had already exploited it all as best as can be, I decided to change my approach and I then got closer, much closer to the ubiquitous crosses and decorations. The walk became a study of the many representations of Jesus Christ sculptures. A meditation on passing time, pain, grief and eternity through repetition.