In the confinement, after having traveled in every corner of my home without having even taken me out of my bed. The immobilization in the narrowness pushes me to break this fidelity that I see unchanged every day, and that with the means that my space proposes to me.
In particular a defective printer to make material the photographs with which i obtained a certain cartography of my place and of which I reevaluate the forms and the dimensions by a manual intervention. Where the raw photography still held for real my space, accentuated by the vertical bands of the printing which held it more in rigor ; this intervention, fruit of an essentially instinctive manipulation, offers a redefinition not defined to my portion of life which, it, is distinctly delimited.