Bruno.

The jacket is the first thing you see. Lime-green — chartreuse, if you want to be precise — over the natural green of the mantis's body. It's synthetic, athletic, zipper open a third of the way. Bruno wears it to gigs, to the Noailles market, to sit in the Tunisian bar below his building and drink mint tea without having ordered it, because the owner already knows what he has.

The lime-green over a praying mantis creates a particular effect. The body's green is organic, variable, with nuances that shift with the light. The jacket's green is flat, synthetic, electric. A contrast that works precisely because the portrait is exactly about that: the border between the natural and the chosen, between what Bruno is and what Bruno decides to be. Comparing the two greens is similar to comparing the sound of an empty room to a full one — the same base note, different reverb.

Underneath, a plain white cotton t-shirt with a round neck. No brand, no print, no story. The garment that doesn't compete with anything. Bruno needs that: a neutral background for everything else to work against.

And then there's the chain. Medium links, matte silver, halfway between jewelry and tool. Bruno has worn it since he was twenty-four and hasn't taken it off. When someone asks about it, he changes the subject. What can be said is that it has a history, and that history is part of who Bruno is, even if he'd rather not talk about it. Would he be different without it? Maybe not. But he wears it.

The complete color palette of the portrait is: lime-green, white, matte silver, and the natural greens of the body. Four tones. No excess, no visual noise. Each element serves a function. The jacket identifies. The t-shirt clears the space. The chain anchors.

Bruno works as a live sound engineer in Marseille's concert halls. His job is to make the band sound good without anyone thinking about who's behind the mixing desk. It's a craft where the norm is to go unnoticed. But the lime-green jacket is the opposite of invisibility. It's a deliberate choice, an act of presence. Bruno lives with both things without needing to explain himself.