WRITE MY LIFE 2017-2018


Write my Life est tout d’abord une application téléphonique conçue afin
d’enregistrer des cartographies révélant les déplacements quotidiens des utilisateurs.
Ces données GPS sont transmises à la plateforme Mechanical Turker d’Amazon où des
inconnus sont rémunérés afin d’inventer des récits possibles à partir de ces déplacements.
Un trajet et sa courte histoire racontant un court récit sont les résultats de ce processus.

Qu’est-ce que Amazon Mechanical Turk? C’est une plateforme internationale où des humains
peuvent réaliser des tâches dématérialisées, plus ou moins complexes contre une rémunération.

À partir des informations créées en réseaux, nous avons créé des images en utilisant des
processus similaires de collages entre réalité, probabilité et virtualité. Les récits ont
été inventé à partir de nos propres déplacements, de voyages et que nous avons transcrits
directement sur google map pour les envoyer aux Mechanical Turkers d’Amazon.

Les récits fictionnels et notre réalité sont mélangés dans des montages photographiques
ainsi qu’un court métrage réalisé avec google earth. Write my Life traite du travail en
réseaux, de l’omniprésence d’internet et surtout de la perte de repères entre réalité
et virtualité, entre le concret et l’imaginaire.

Coréalisé avec Sophie Perry.


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Extrait vidéo



Jour 1, 2018, Impression numérique, 6 x 9 cm

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Jour 1 (3WETL7AQWUPP3JSO5UOJB50I1WR35C)

Turker ID ; A2JN0I2GUHR8G6Accept Time : Tue Nov 21 10:20:33 PST

"Being an American is so strange" she said to herself as she landed at the Orly airport, "but I only notice when i'm in France". In other countries, you can get away with your unabashedly American ways, but the French don't find it charming. And they don't hide their feelings. The stewardesses had barely been willing to offer her a drink, their cheap lipstick cracking as their lips pursed. As she got into the tub of her posh suite at the Gare de Leon, she finally let her mind rest. She got up early. She always did. She grabbed a croissant from a local cafe from a scowling man who refused to understand English. "Always so contrary" she said loudly as she walked out the door. She hurried her way to the Gare de la Part-Dieu so she could catch the Arret Ouibus. This is pretty chic though, she thought to herself. "Chic", she said out loud. Another word we stole. The train ride was easy enough. She grabbed her small bag and made her way quickly. As she walked up to the home,( 62 Rue Professeur Rochaix she had scribbled on a napkin) she heard him yell. "About time you make your way here", a huge smile on his face. "I'm home", she thought.


Jour 2, 2018, Impression numérique, 6 x 9 cm

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Jour 2 (3I2PTA7R3UBKS3JTAS4LQ2CB9RPKQX)

Turker ID ; A2JI9PL1ZOJP4GAccept Time : Sun Nov 26 17:36:38 PST

His journey started in the Rue Professeur Rochaix and he was determined to make this a worthwhile day. Having decided to take his bike, he untangled it from the chain he had secured it with, already excited to drive down the road. Swinging one leg over the seat of his bike, he pushed the pedals, sight ahead and ready. Straight down past the hospital, until the crossroad on Avenue des Frères Lumière. Then his trip continued, just driving straight ahead without so much stopping. The cool air swooped by his ears. Looking around, he had never thought that there were so many restaurants down this road. He had never realised them before. He only slowed down at the Passerelle du Collège, taking in the sight of the Rône. Soon he passed the bridge though, and since it was soon noon he decided he would have his first meal of the day somewhere he hadn't been since his childhood. It was a rather small café, and the croissants looked just as tasty as he remembered them. But was a croissant really the best idea to eat for lunch? Of course not! So he swung back on his bike and followed to road to search for an actual restaurant. He did find one, called Restaurant Les délices du Liban, and luckily also found himself enjoying the food. After the meal, he traveled a little further, knowing the Place de la Croix-Rousse was here. Once there, he pulled out his phone to take some wonderful pictures, a memory he would print out and put on his wall to the others. But it was time to head back to from where he started so he followed the road to continue his journey which would eventually lead him safely back. Although, when he was half down the street, he almost ran into a black blur. Seeing it was a cat, he saw it holding keys in its mouth. It must have stolen them! Quickly turning and going after it he ended up catching it on 182 Boulevard de la Croix-Rousse. Snatching they keys, he already saw a small woman running, which he gave the keys laughingly. Someone's pet needs some manners! Finally he could travel further. Luckily nothing disturbed him until he decided to have a small break, grabbing a coffee at the Foch corner. With new strength, he made it all the way back down the Avenue Maréchal de Saxe until he finally made it back.