LAGL Media.

If you’re scrolling through, it probably means you care about visuals that carry weight, not just pretty images, but stories that stay with you. Two places, two rhythms, two ways of seeing. From Burundi, I carry a culture of respect and presence. Where you take your time. Where you listen before you speak. Where art isn’t rushed, it’s lived. From Montréal, I carry the pulse of the city. The versat

ility. The detail. The sense that creativity has no single form, but many. My work lives in-between these two worlds. Rooted and patient, yet sharp and versatile. Intimate like a conversation, but layered like the city. For me, the camera isn’t just a tool; it’s a way of living. Every frame is a fragment of life itself: complex, messy, tender, true. What I make isn’t “content,” it’s memory. Its presence. It’s proof that something real was here, even if just for a moment. Whether it’s an athlete, an artist, a community or a brand, I approach it the same way: with respect for the story and curiosity for the truth inside it. Somewhere along the way, that curiosity needed a room of its own, so we opened one and called it No Long Talk. It started simple: create a space where Montréal artists could meet, share and grow without pretense. Sessions that felt like open kitchens. Collabs that felt like neighbourhood conversations. Community first, cameras second. What we built there still shapes how I work here: less spectacle, more care; less “show me,” more “tell me who you are.”

I’ve also worn the hat of marketing manager. On paper, it’s strategy and deliverables; in practice, it’s where my creative life took root. It’s the first place that said, “bring your whole self,” and meant it. Deadlines taught discipline; briefs taught clarity; the work taught me to make every frame earn its place, not just aesthetically, but in the ecosystem where it will live. Before all that, there were the obsessions that never left: cameras and music. A lens in one hand; a guitar riff looping in my head. Piano keys teaching me patience; drum patterns teaching me cut points. The metronome still lives in my edits. I love the complexity of art because it’s the closest thing we have to the human soul; the part of us that doesn’t always speak in sentences but always knows when something’s true. Some say art is the soul, showing itself. I won’t argue. So when we work together, it’s a conversation; quietly guided, deeply felt. We move at the pace the story deserves. We make room for the breath after the moment, not just the moment. We aim for work that looks right because it feels right. This is LAGL MEDIA: a bridge between presence and pulse, stillness and movement, roots and city lights. Stay as long as you like. Read, watch, breathe. If a line or a frame stays with you, that’s the point. Whichever one spoke to you; I hope you were listening.

— yours.genuinely