About the work

The future arrived, and then it did not know what to do with itself. It parked in the wrong spot, plugged into the wrong outlet, or perhaps simply idled, a phantom limb. The light that falls on this particular moment is not a morning light, not truly. It’s an industrial simulation of one, a halogen’s best guess at dawn, which only highlights the misplaced quality of everything under it. There’s a hum that isn’t there, but you can feel the low thrum of a world struggling to find the right adapter, to remember what it was designed for. Everything feels provisional, like a temporary solution that has, through sheer inertia, become permanent.