I also love music, especially live music. Sometimes I just sit in a small bar somewhere in the Latin Quarter and listen to street musicians, as if the world around me is dissolving. And at this moment, I feel like I'm part of something bigger. I write small texts — not poems, but something between a diary and inner monologues. It helps me understand myself, sort out my thoughts, and sometimes see my own experiences from a different angle.

I guess one day I dream of touching the world of Dior as if it were part of my own story. I see myself with **Lady Dior** in a soft pastel shade — not just a bag, but a small symbol that dreams become reality if you go to them every day. I want to have a **Dior Book Tote**, where I will put my camera, notebook and my ideas, so that suddenly, among the Parisian streets, I can catch the moment from which the real frame is born. I dream of a Dior trench coat that fits perfectly, as if it were created according to my lines — I would feel stronger, more confident, and more free in it. But the most important dream is not even a material one: one day I want to be in the house of Dior as a photographer. Go backstage, see the birth of the collection, smell the fabrics, hear the silence before the show. To capture the very frame that will become not just a job, but a part of their story — and mine, too.

For me, the meaning of life isn’t one big formula that you discover once and forever. It changes, grows, disappears, and comes back again. Sometimes the meaning is in simple things: a warm morning, an inspiring conversation, the feeling that I’m moving in the direction my heart pulls me. Sometimes it’s in dreams that make me braver, in people who give me support, and in moments that can never be repeated. I think meaning is born from movement. From what I choose every day: what to feel, what to create, whom to trust, and what to let go of. It’s in the ability to notice the beauty of small things and still strive for something greater. And maybe the most important part is that meaning isn’t waiting for me somewhere in the future. It already exists in the way I live now: in my attempts to understand myself, in my steps forward, in my desire to leave at least a small but genuine trace behind.

I have quite broad hobbies, and they probably reflect my character in many ways. I love photographing people and moments that cannot be repeated. Not staged shots, but real ones, where the emotion is raw and unprepared. I like to watch how the light falls on a passerby's face, how the wind lifts the edge of the coat, how random gestures become little stories. I often find myself thinking that photography for me is an attempt to stop time, to hold it for at least a second.

My name is Vanessa, I'm eighteen, and I was born in Paris, a city that most people imagine as a postcard with the Eiffel Tower shining with lights. But for me, Paris is above all a feeling of continuous movement: streets where the aromas of fresh pastries mix with the noise of the subway, bridges over the Seine that seem almost alive in the evening, and the endless sense of freedom that arises when you just walk forward without a plan. It seems that this city itself becomes a part of me, as if its energy permeates everything I do.