About the work

The robotic arm, broken and stripped, is too heavy to move. It is an artifact of a former future, once tasked with an impossibility, now simply taking up space. It remains, not as a monument, but as a fossil, a reminder that even the most precise calculations can lead to obsolescence. The orange peel, so bright and temporary, feels like an offering, a small, vibrant protest against the metallic permanence. It hints at a momentary reprieve from the factory’s relentless efficiency, a brief interlude of organic presence amidst the inorganic. This small, fleeting act suggests that even in systems designed to negate the human, something recalcitrant and alive will persist. It's a whisper of entropy in a place built to defy it.