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lili
four-
mest
-raux

graphic designer
(graduate from the
Central Saint Martins)

this website features

prints and


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lili fourmestraux
paris - london
Graphic Communication
Design student at the Central Saint Martins

this website features

publications, illustration,

photography, etchings

and various other things

(reading and writing)

work around the following quote: “with everyone, i think, memories of early childhood consist of a series of visual impressions, many very clear but lacking any sense of chronology.” - the siren & selectec writing, giuseppe tomasi di lampedusa 

it is my first attempt to write something that is not academic in english. the piece talks about my late grandparents and the feeling of memorie fading away with nothing but pictures to hold on to. the text is written so tiny you need a magnifying glass to read it.

4-page publication, magnifying glass, november 2019



my childhood is pictures
i remember nothing of

me in the arms of
my grandparents
they smile
 
hikes in the mountain
diving in cold lakes
our own customs

christmas in the alps
the house we used to have
my cousin disguised as santa claus

am i making these up from stories i was told?
sometimes they appear like flashes
sharp but blurry
i feel almost dizzy

i try to catch them
but like dreams
they fade

and all i see are colors
but the faces are gone

will i end up forgetting
those whom i lost?

i try not to think about it
i don’t want to stain
my cheeks with tears

Michelle, Mitch, Mamie
we used to play board games
eat boiled eggs and gingerbread

i would sleep in her bed
she’d read me stories
i knew by heart

Delphine et Marinette
Le gentil facteur
sometimes i’m reminded of a phrase
or a page - but never find it online

it aches when i remember too much
i wish i could say something
but i die every time

i sunk in old albums
is this me?
i can’t recall

birthdays and celebrations
we blow candles together
people are getting older
their faces suffer from time
we travel to distant places
i wear a funny green hat
it’s still in my costume box

i think i’m impressed
am i good enough?
i want to be smart

too scared to go
to the hospital
they leave
and i didn’t say goodbye

i don’t have them
in my bedroom
where are you
if not on my walls

i tried to draw them once
for my father maybe
i hope he teared it
down

memories are sleeping
somewhere in my brain
in a tiny wobbly bed

i’m not sure i should wake them
i didn’t go the wake myself

i haven’t talked about it
since i ghosted my therapist

i wish i’d get
to call them
once in a while

ask them to tell me
how it was
my childhood

puns in my emails
un fourmestral
des fourmestraux
did i use to laugh?

i should have asked
more questions
when? why? how?
and

do you love me?

were you proud of me?
i know i was proud of you.

when did i stop thinking
when did i stop talking
about them ?

© lili fourmestraux - 2022
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