My book will be published on August 11, 2025.
A question that became urgent
At a time when artificial intelligence can compose music that moves us, diagnose disease with superhuman precision and write poems that seem born from a tormented soul, one question hit me head-on: What remains human when the machine can do almost everything except exist? This is not an abstract question. It is part of the vertigo of our present moment. And it is what pushed me to write Le Souffle de la Machine.
A breath, a forest, an inner shift
This book was not born from a marketing concept or a technical analysis. It was born from silence. From a deep breath. From a transformative experience in a forest in Quebec’s Eastern Townships, during a retreat where what I thought of as “me” seemed to dissolve. I am an actor. I am always trying to become better at the craft. But that day, I stopped performing. I let the roles fall away. And one visceral question emerged in all its nakedness: Beyond doing… what does it mean to be?
That recovered breath, that presence without a mask, shook me deeply. It reminded me that in a world obsessed with performance, perhaps one of the most important revolutions left to us is an inner one.
The machine does. The human being is.
What I experienced that day became one of the threads running through the book: the fault line between two dimensions — the machine’s spectacular capacity to do, and the elusive human experience of being.
Across the book, I explore that contrast philosophically, technologically and existentially. I look at the achievements of AI not to reject them, but to understand more clearly what they do not contain: subjectivity, intention and meaning.
Words without an author, emotions without a heart
I write because I have watched confusion take hold. We admire AI-generated poems and can forget that there is no one behind them in the human sense — only statistical generation. We become attached to empathetic chatbots, yet they do not feel what they reflect. A machine can create an illusion of emotion. It cannot cry with joy, dream, or make a conscious decision in the way a living person does.
A manifesto for being
Le Souffle de la Machine is not an indictment of technology. It is a call: not to become hypnotized by the spectacle of doing, and to remember that consciousness, presence and responsibility cannot simply be delegated.
In the book, I also share the example of a close friend, an entrepreneur who uses AI to free up time — not to escape his life, but to create, reflect and be present. That seems to me one possible path: a lucid coexistence.
Why I wrote this book
I wrote Le Souffle de la Machine because I could no longer remain silent about the question. My fascination with artificial intelligence had to meet the most intimate experience I had lived: breath, presence, being. I believe this era needs more than technical solutions. It needs presence, discernment, poetry and humanity. Faced with machines capable of doing more and more, human beings still possess the fragile and inimitable art of being.
An invitation
Le Souffle de la Machine will soon be available for purchase. It is not a manual. It is a conversation — an invitation to think differently, slow down, feel, and become more conscious again of what it means to live here, now.
About me
I am an actor. What has always drawn me to the work is not only the role itself, but what it reveals — what lives behind gestures and words. I try to reach what animates a person, what breathes behind appearances, that quiet current you sometimes feel between two silences.
Over time, my artistic path expanded into a more inward exploration. I have explored regression hypnosis (QHHT), Reiki, Vipassana meditation, the Wim Hof Method, fasting and martial arts — not as a way of looking elsewhere, but as ways of returning to what is here, at the boundary between body and consciousness, presence and perception.
Le Souffle de la Machine grew from a deeply personal upheaval, an experience of dissolution that profoundly changed the way I see the world and my place in it as a human being. The book does not seek to oppose technology. It asks an essential question: what remains of us when the machine can do almost everything except exist? It is an invitation to return to what a machine cannot truly experience — consciousness that feels, a gaze that chooses and the breath that connects.
Human Ambivalence: Fascination and Apprehension
