Our treasured objects

This coal-based stone reminds me of my grandfather, a miner in Lorraine. A connection to the earth that I hold dear.

My microphone from my seven years as an RTL reporter, covering news from the Middle East and Brussels. RTL was the station I listened to as a child.

The CD by Malagasy artist Caylah, which I produced after being moved by her commitment to fighting violence against women.

My emblem from Karakalpakstan, the desolate region by the Aral Sea, and the little dog from the Japanese shrine of Kotohira-gū, with its more than 1,360 steps.

This letter from my mentor, Christian d’Epenoux, a renowned journalist at L’Express, gave me encouragement. He lived in a château near my home.

My passport, always ready for the next destination or to revisit places close to my heart.

My cassettes and my trusty Bic pen: the make-do fix that let me listen over and over to music I still savour… on my phone.

The poster for my exhibition on the little-known side of Dubai (with the excellent photographer Isabelle Viallaneix), and the memories of the people I met while exploring the city.

Books worn from years of use. The power of words, which I discovered thanks to my father, who introduced me to Baudelaire, Camus and Borges, and who was fascinated by the diversity and complexity of languages.

South America, which I love so much, and the Argentina of my childhood, symbolised by mate (which I don’t drink – I prefer coffee).

The DVD, and by extension films in general. A source of joy, sadness, longing and inspiration, films have been with me all my life.

The frying pan. For several years now I have taken great pleasure in cooking – good for body and mind – and I always try to find new recipes.

The computer, a tool for life and work: countless hours spent in front of it, learning, working, sometimes as a substitute for life itself. Our whole lives, digitised.

The car. I spend many hours in it, sometimes too many: driving to work, visiting family and friends or heading to sport. I listen to podcasts, music and the news. I get annoyed, I think, I meditate, and I doze off dangerously, by day and by night.

The lens, the first thing light passes through to capture an image, often overlooked next to the camera itself. It is the element most directly tied to my profession. And the lens is also my focus in life: my work, where I have succeeded and which I am determined to keep developing.

My trombone. Music has been with me throughout my life. From my childhood at music school to my career as a music programmer, it has always been there. My trombone is my outlet, my moment outside of time.

My trusty camera (a Canon 90D) is never far away; it helps me bear witness to my times and to the human activities that shape our societies.

The coffee mug is a must. A day without coffee? Simply not an option. But mind you, none of that dishwater: proper coffee, full of aroma. This girl has standards.

My Olympic Games cap and my accreditation for the Pope’s visit to Lourdes. Always one to look out for others, I was lucky enough to take part in both events as a first-aider. A form of civic engagement I hold very dear.

Keyboard and mouse are the two tools of my trade. They symbolise my career change and my passion for digital and content creation.

My clarinet: my grandmother’s breath, the breath of klezmer, the breath of struggles for less bitter times.

My Zoom H4n: to record life’s moments, great and small, capturing our intimate stories to make them universal.

A collection by Pablo Neruda: any one will do, as a reminder of the strength of poetry and the power of literature.

A niglo: because behind its spines, the hedgehog plays a vital role in protecting the environment.

My leather jacket: come rain or shine, a handy second skin for roaming the ends of the earth or just round the corner.