« Logbook From a purely mechanical process to a meticulously retouched image, from a serial production to a unique piece resulting from a manual know-how, Anaïs Boudot upsets the status of photography and, by ricochet, that of her models. These images nevertheless retain a memorial significance, which is also found in her latest series Jour le Jour. The set presents a series of images on glass, made from digital files from the archives of his smartphone, titled with their date of recording. In other words, a chronicle where landscapes, wallpapers, visuals received via our applications and social networks, cat portraits, card games, allusions to cosmic and invisible forces... Photography reconnects with one of its primary functions: to be activated as a system of «notation», or an «instrument of rapid vision», able to instantly capture what crosses us, challenges us and surrounds us. More than a simple place of «storage, scrupulous compilation, or meticulous filing», the photo becomes a small lexicon of our lives and documents fleeting sequences of life, like an appendage of our memory. Presented horizontally in the form of a black box, these photographs on glass refer to the format and the shimmering surface of our smartphones and tablets, while replaying the way we refer to them. With their rounded cuts, they still evoke the postcards that were already circulating around the world, before the advent of digital networks. A dialectic is thus established between two regimes of photography: ancient and contemporary, analog and digital, frozen and fluid... but always closer to us. The prints on glass are apprehended like the pages of a logbook where one gathers the discrete signs of a poetry of «almost nothing», small volatile nothings which accumulate and sediment in our data banks, without us taking care of it... Even if it means invading us or drawing our own portrait in hollow. Because let’s be sure that one day, they will constitute a micro-history of our actuality. » extract from the text Chroniques de verre by François Salmeron