Literally, the term blind spot refers to the zone around a vehicle not visible in mirrors or through direct vision, which a driver must physically check. In anatomy, it means the point on the retina where the optic nerve connects, creating a small gap in vision that our brain fills in automatically. Figuratively, it describes something one fails to notice or understand – often due to cognitive biases, limited perspective, or unconscious assumptions. I have spent my adult life in Paris and New York, living at their hearts. For a long time, I thought I knew these cities – but I only knew my neighborhoods, the center, the obvious. Beyond that, only vague images, clichés mostly, nothing tangible – a blind spot. In 2019, I began surveying the Outer Boroughs of NYC and the freshly formed Grand Paris to document landscapes that, until then, had been imageless to me. This project is the result of over five years spent exploring these invisible cities and questioning their representations. What produces this invisibility, and how much responsibility do I bear? What deserves to be photographed – where should I place the frame? How can I represent places that evade my gaze, surfaces where images don't stick? And from what distance? “Blind Spots” operates on two scales: as a personal reckoning with the limits of my own perception, and as an examination of the broader forces that exclude vast swaths of urban space from representation. It is a subjective attempt to disrupt the self-perpetuating cycle in which photography returns, again and again, to the same iconic views, the same sites of power, the same visual fetishes – photographed into exhaustion.