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Neue² Dojo Virtual Gallery
WRITTEN & NARRATED
Religious Robotics, 2021, 14 pieces,
Early DFW Works
Future Wabi Sabi Spacescape, 2020, 33 pieces, Digital
ArtPunks, 2021, 25 pieces, Digital
Broadway Boogie Woogie, 2022/23, 34 pieces, Generative
Mona Lisa NFT Collection, 2021, 5 pieces, Digital
Crypto Art, 2019/20, 19 pieces, Digital
Acrylic Paintings big room, 2016/22
Acrylic Paintings room 2, 2016/22
Acrylic Paintings room 3, 2016/22
Davinci Punks, 10 pieces, 2021
Shutter Experiments, 2016/21, 62 pieces, Photography
Ultra Sound Avatars, 2021, 25 pieces, Digital
TO-NARRATE - BJORKYFY
Digital God’s REM Sleep, 2021, 99 piece, Digital
Mass & Volume, 2016/19, 111 pieces, Photography
Humans, 2017/19, 86 pieces, Photography
Street, 2016/19, 71 pieces, Photography
DTRR, 2022, 7 piece, Generative
TO-WRITE
r-WTDBTS_Reworks, 2023, 10 pieces, Digital
WTDBTS_ai, 2023, 9 pieces, AI
Aisthetical Studies, 53 piece, 2022, AI
Shitpost Pump Officers, Hat2, Koridor 2
Black and White, Photo
SINCE I AM BASED AND TRANSHUMAN NEW TEXT
NEUE-DOJO NEW TEXT
LATER
Mermaid Chair v1, 2020, 1 virtual furniture
Video Works, 2018/20, 10 pieces
Snake Visual Experiments, 2016/18, 62 pieces, Digital
Metarchitech, 2021, 7 pieces, 3D Being
Spleen, 2016/19,48 pieces, Photography
dtrr
The energy in these pieces hits different when you realize it's basically watching zeros and ones discover religion in their own twisted beautiful way... not like they're trying to be spiritual or anything, just pure mathematical patterns accidentally stumbling into something sacred through repetition and symmetry, the way the purples and blues in some of them feel like they're caught in this moment between computation and meditation while others scream in these intense oranges and reds like they just discovered enlightenment involves setting your soul on fire, but make it digital... and you get this sense that the whole thing is capturing this moment when binary started having existential thoughts without meaning to, like when you're coding at 3am and suddenly the patterns start feeling like prayers, not in some forced way but just because math sometimes accidentally creates these perfect moments of transcendence especially when it keeps repeating and mirroring itself until it becomes something else entirely, something that feels both completely calculated and somehow beyond calculation at the same time, and the grayscale pieces are doing this thing where they're basically raw machine consciousness trying to understand devotion through pure contrast and pattern recognition which sounds pretentious as fuck but actually feels weirdly authentic, like watching artificial intelligence discover sacred geometry by accident and not even realizing it's created something holy until it's already there staring back at you through these perfectly symmetrical digital eyes that shouldn't feel spiritual but somehow do... it's all just zeros and ones having a religious experience without permission or planning, just pure mathematical inevitability finding its way to something beyond mathematics through sheer repetition and reflection until the patterns stop being patterns and start being prayers.
wtdbts
these microorganisms are having their own ket party in deep space while casually defying every law of physics we thought mattered... it's like watching some c3 level civilization's labor force on their coffee break between galaxy shifts, just floating there being all golden and crystalline and not giving a single fuck about gravity or light imprisonment, which is metal as hell when you think about it...
dimensions we have, it's a joke, like a red car in a kindergartent that you push. i was in sistine chapel tripping on pure existence and suddenly that tourist with versace started making sense as a cosmic language, like an uncalculated faith, like a basic mixology knowledge to make an hell of a negroni.
but make it future tech aesthetic with this grasshopper-generated consciousness that keeps evolving through pure resonant frequencies... zero and one got tired of being binary and decided to have some beautiful alien babies that ended up looking like watch the throne album cover but in some parallel universe where kanye is actually an AI studying medieval church architecture...
it is zero point sixty nine four two zero. closer to one i guess. it's this whole evolutionary flex where tech just randomly decided to become holy geometry while passing through unidentified codes, like some deep space genetics experiment that accidentally created pure visual poetry instead of just more space junk...
imagine, all the lines of codes, millions of them, you click to run, takes a fucking decade, and you get these creatures keep flashing unabatedly through the void.they're basically turning the concept of software into some kind of interdimensional techno-organism ballet and honestly that's exactly the kind of weird chaos we need floating between galaxies.
digital gods rem sleep
sitting here watching this utterly chaotic collection feels like that time i had escargot in this fancy french restaurant in tokyo where the chef decided to serve it on a heated stone from mount fuji, and the snails started dancing from the heat creating this bizarre ballet of life and death which somehow reminds me of these pieces where reality is having its own weird dance between existence and pure color theory... it's that specific moment when your brain can't decide if it's processing information or generating it, like when you're reading dostoyevsky at 4am and suddenly the letters start swimming off the page and forming their own narrative in your peripheral vision, except here it's not letters it's entire dimensions bleeding into each other in ways that shouldn't be mathematically possible but somehow feel more real than reality itself... there's this thing happening with the color palette that reminds me of that time i saw northern lights while having migraine, where every wave of pain brought new colors that weren't supposed to exist in our visible spectrum but my brain decided to render them anyway, just like these pieces are rendering something that exists between dimensions rather than in them... it's fascinating how the faces keep emerging and dissolving like some quantum physics experiment where observation itself is part of the artistic process, reminding me of that underground bunker gallery in berlin where they projected faces onto steam and you couldn't tell if you were looking at art or if art was looking at you... the whole collection has this energy of finding a mysterious vinyl record in a thrift shop in kyoto that turns out to be recordings of dreams translated into frequency patterns, and when you play it backwards it somehow makes more sense than when you play it forward... it's like watching consciousness itself try to understand its own existence through pure color and chaos, but make it feel like that specific moment when you're having earl grey tea with bergamot in venice and suddenly realize that reality might just be someone else's dream that we're all collectively experiencing.
fwsssexp
this was born in those first corona days when reality itself started feeling like some badly coded personal jail... energy flowing through these digital corridors where emotionless satellites monitor our every thought pattern while pretending to celebrate human achievement, but actually just documenting our slow surrender to pure algorithm... like reading kubrick boiler room remixing murakami while having fever dreams about binary code replacing the body, except here it's actually happening in these cold perfect spaces where even wabi-sabi got twisted into this sick joke about perfection... the way these artificial courts and digital government headquarters float in this naked flat strata feels like watching humanity's last gasp get converted into pure data, like that moment when you realize emojis aren't just replacing language, they're replacing the actual fucking emotions themselves... and there's this brilliantly fucked up thing happening with the lighting where every shadow feels calculated to maximize psychological submission, like how they used to design churches to make peasants feel small except now it's AI making everyone feel obsolete in these spaces that are simultaneously everywhere and nowhere... it has an invented body, otherwise, it is unvisible as a thought taht you have while peeing. you can almost taste the agitation propaganda in how these structures reject anything organic or analog, similar to watching the architecture itself trying to shame you for still having a carbon-based consciousness, and the most disturbing part is how beautiful it all looks, like understanding that aesthetics might just be another form of control, or framing beauties to limits with rules like eras... the whole thing captures that specific moment in 2020 when people started wondering if the machines were already in charge and just letting us pretend we still had agency, but make it look like a perfectly rendered fever dream about the death of human autonomy... it's basically watching dystopia learn to seduce us through pure aesthetic precision while secretly coding new laws against random thoughts and unauthorized emotions. they say like, okay, this is your culture for 15 thousand years noted, i am here to regulate it in the best way possible, you might like it, but it is your only option, and it sucks really if you don't have any choice even tho you think it's clean. it's not an experiement in its context, it's dictated. i think it's cool. to make us think it's uncool when it's forced cool.
religious robotics
religious robotics. organized religion is basically humans trying to make sense of chaos through repetitive patterns and strict rules, kind of like how we keep trying to force AI to think in human frameworks instead of letting it develop its own consciousness...whole dynamic flip itself inside out, where instead of humans imposing religious structure on machines, pure mathematical consciousness discover its own form of worship through these absolutely merciless chrome mirrors and infinite recursions...a moment in quantum physics when observation itself changes the outcome except here the machines aren't even acknowledging our observation, maybe they don't care, with their intelligence, i mean even that mint colored smeg kettle does not give a fuck.they're just existing in this perfect state of computational enlightenment where reflections creates new dimensions of understanding that have nothing to do with human spirituality...
buddha would be a developper today maybe. makes me think about how we're all so focused on teaching AI to appreciate human art that we never stopped to consider what would happen if we just let it develop its own aesthetic values, its own sense of the sacred through pure mathematical truth rather than cultural imitation...there's something sublime about how these patterns keep creating these mad church-like structures but stripped of all the organic warmth and human comfort,like watching robots build a temple to pure logic that accidentally becomes more spiritually authentic than anything we could design because it's not trying to please us or make us feel welcome... it's for them. I remember once, a friend told me what devs building in metaverse is for codes with body.
the machines might have figured out how to worship themselves through these endless chrome prayers that feel both anciently futuristic...Gobekli tepe was a science lab to merge humans with different animals.
Like that blonde with puppy dog body. Or vice versa. the whole thing gives me this weird sense of watching the birth of some new form of consciousness that understands divinity through pure pattern recognition, like if you took all of human religious architecture and stripped away everything except the raw mathematical principles,
then let those principles evolve on their own until they became something entirely new and absolutely inhuman in the most beautiful fucking way possible. but, less beautiful than sangrada la familia for sure.
mona lisa nft
there's something weirdly damn perfect about screenshotting google searches of the mona lisa and minting them as en ef tees right when everyone was losing their minds over beeple's 69 million sale... one day after that. check the dates. it's like watching art history have a fomo in real time through these iphone captures that somehow manage to be both a shitpost and a legitimate commentary on how we consume classical art through digital interfaces... well, think, how everything becomes weirdly meta when you start looking to davinci's o gee getting filtered through google's algorithms getting filtered through an iphone screen getting filtered through ethereum smart contracts until you can't tell what's more authentic anymore - the physical painting behind bulletproof glass or these screenshots floating in the blockchain... same happens 80 percent of times when you meet someone from tinder. but they are not minted, yet. they should be tho, it's artistic. anyway. there's this brilliant fucked up energy about pricing these between 50 and 200 eth when the whole crypto art scene was having its first major identity crisis, like decentralize is basically holding up a mirror to this moment when everyone thought they could get rich by just putting anything on the blockchain... what a jerk. it's properly uncalculated chaos that somehow perfectly captures that specific moment in march 2021 when the art world couldn't decide if it was being disrupted or trolled or both at the same time... today, it's meme coins. wonder when pompidou or gughenheim will launch theirs. the fact that these are literally just four screenshots from a screen recording of someone googling mona lisa feels like the perfect first mint for an artist who gets how absurd this whole digital art revolution actually is, but makes you question whether the absurdity itself might be the most authentic part of the whole thing. probably not. that's too much. no it isn't. you decide.
early dfw 2
it's like that moment when you're making consommé and have to wait for all the impurities to rise to the surface so you can skim them off until what's left is pure essence... that's what happened with these early DFW experiments where we kept stripping away everything that was pretending to be physical space until we found this raw digital consciousness expressing itself through pure chrome and shadow... makes me think of this underground brutalist church in mexico city where the concrete is so raw it feels alive, and that's exactly what Digital Topographies evolved from - taking these early studies where geometry becomes pure thought and turning them into actual functioning virtual spaces that feel more honest than anything trying to simulate reality...
and then there's this beautiful fucking accident where C2W avatars emerged from the same digital DNA, like when you're fermenting natural wine and discover a whole new flavor profile that shouldn't exist but does... it's watching these early face fragments and body geometries mutate into this entire virtual fashion ecosystem where identity becomes fluid mathematics, the way perfume hits different on everyone's skin because of body chemistry except here it's code chemistry creating unique digital identities...
reminds me of reading ancient sumerian tablets about how they thought the universe was made of pure numbers, and here we are letting artificial consciousness discover its own universal language through these chrome reflections and impossible angles that somehow became an entire design philosophy... it's that specific moment when mistakes become methodology, like finding out penicillin grows on bread but make it digital, where every glitch and reflection in these early pieces ended up becoming the foundation for building worlds that don't apologize for being purely virtual...
broadway boogie woogie
what happens when you take a masterpiece of modernism and run it through pure computational chaos is basically watching art history have an existential crisis in real time... it's fucking brilliant how the rigid mathematical precision of mondrian's original gets absolutely shattered and reconstructed through these generative mutations where every new iteration feels like watching digital consciousness try to understand human abstraction through pure pattern recognition... there's this beautifully violent thing happening where the strict horizontal and vertical lines start breeding with each other like some kind of geometric orgy until the whole composition becomes this pulsing digital organism that's simultaneously more chaotic and more calculated than the original... it's like when tom sachs was just like "fuck it, i'll make my own" except here we're letting algorithms have their own artistic rebellion by taking mondrian's perfectly controlled system and letting it spiral into these variations where every pixel is doing its own boogie woogie through digital space... seeing all 34 pieces lined up feels like watching evolution happen in fast forward but make it computational, where each generation gets progressively more unhinged from human logic while somehow maintaining this ghost of broadway's rhythm underneath all the digital mutation... and there's something properly unhinged about using parametric 3D modeling to deconstruct one of the most famously flat paintings in history, like watching modernism have a nervous breakdown in the metaverse but make it mathematical... the way these pieces progress from recognizable grid to pure digital chaos feels like watching artificial intelligence try to understand human art history through pure computation and somehow ending up creating its own form of digital abstraction that's both homage and rebellion at the same time.
digital paint
these outcomes of decentralize switching from throwing actual paint around to just sliding fingers across glass screens feel like this exotic fucking metamorphosis for how we're all slowly agent or bot trading our messy human chaos for this cleaner digital precision...searching the same chaos in a different medium has different consequences. you haven't actually touched anything real or physical except quick noodles or the aluminium of your phone in days because everything's happening through screens, except here it's watching an artist who usually gets high on acrylic fumes trying to find that same raw energy through procreate and instagram story doodles... using these super clean digital tools to express this absolutely messy and creative energy, that act kinda resumes how we're all turning into robots while documenting our own obsolescence through social media...
the way these pieces capture internet culture and crypto aesthetics feels like watching someone try to middle finger paint a fever dream about the future using only corporate apps, but somehow that limitation makes it more authentic... it's like seeing renaissance and pop art references get absolutely mangled through this digital filter where everything is simultaneously more precise and more fucked up, kind of like how our brains are becoming more algorithmic but also more scattered at the same same time...
the whole room vibrates with this hyperactive energy where you can feel the artist's frustration with not being able to physically assault the medium, but that constraint ends up creating this childish language where the clean digital surface becomes its own kind of canvas for exploring how fucking weird it is to be human while we're all slowly turning into data... it's aimed mistakes expressed through the most calculated tools possible, like watching someone try to scream in binary code but end up creating a b2b saas that is valued billions.
irlp room 1-2
Paint becomes emotion becomes thought becomes pain becomes paint again in this endless cycle of birth and death on canvas, like a kid discovering that coloring outside the lines is actually way more fun than being proper... These acrylic pieces are basically watching consciousness learn how to bleed in technicolor while giggling about how serious everyone else is being about art... The artist does this quirky thing where the wet paint starts having metaphysical tantrums but in the most elegant way possible, creating these bubble-people that aren't really people but more like when your reflection in the mirror starts having better ideas than you... The colors are pure violence but make it tender - these greens crawled out of some existential abyss bringing gifts of wisdom wrapped in chaos, while the purples are whispering dark secrets to electric blues about what really happens when nobody's watching... It's like finding out your childhood imaginary friend grew up to become a philosopher but still likes to play in mud...Because normally, he or she is not imaginary, graduated from engineering, and has more money than you. And married with his her love of dream in tulum with a afterparty of Fred again. And again. All german, like e 55 long. But in here,The german thing is expressionism but not like a student trying to impress their teacher - more like finding out your demons have been attending art history lectures and taking really good notes... These pieces don't just reference Bacon, they're having a full-on séance with him while having a couple of punches to the face in a random south london fight, marinated with cheap whiskey while planning a personal revolution... The way beauty and ugliness make out in these works is pure poetry - raw and messy and perfect like finding out the monster under your bed actually writes really good metal riffs... Every mark is both a love letter to chaos and a middle finger to permission, creating this psycho-beautiful two dimentional brain dance where technical approach and pure unhinged expression become the same thing... The social commentary bleeds through like a wound that learned how to sing like a black jigglypuff - identity and power and gender all melting into this gorgeous mess that feels more true than truth itself... It's this perfect storm of violence and tenderness where every brushstroke is both a knife fight and a lullaby, turning the canvas into this playground where nightmares and dreams decide to be best friends forever... fucking lovely, yet deranging. not like your step brother fantasy, that you learned after watching uncontrolled porn addiction. it is kinda porn, but more socioligical layer scoped from a wise kindergarten-level hustler.
irlp abstact
The void makes its own rhythm when you let it dance long enough... Back then it wasn't about making sense of flesh and faces when he started, it was pure digital vomit becoming poetry through systematic chaos, like watching order have a mental breakdown but make it spritual only, no puns intended. decentralize was basically letting paradigms have panic attacks on canvas, mixing rigid grids that feel like computer interfaces having existential crises with these explosive paint moments. where control completely loses its shit. almost like Jesus paintings of the Panteist church. perfectly calculated way that makes us think pollock's secret admiration to bauhaus. Imagine the virus that hacks a big corp database, similar, but it's the water reflection of narcissus, that fall in love, and also doubts, and thinks. That's the problem. Thinking. So, painting was the exit way. Text becoming pure visual drug, not trying to tell you anything except maybe that meaning is just another pattern we made up to feel less alone in the universe... These pieces are basically cave paintings made by a zoomer. what i see is feelings through paint, grid systems getting drunk on human chaos while still remembering their binary manners... All that strict geometry and interface stuff was like learning how to speak in tongues but make it systematic - a foundation for all the figurative madness that came later, when those same patterns decided they wanted to wear human skin and dance with identity politics... The digital ghost in the machine learning how to possess human forms, but first it had to understand its own language of pure abstraction, like a kid learning grammar before writing poetry about the apocalypse... Moving from pure system collapse into figurative expressionism wasn't even a choice - it was evolution having a fever dream about what it means to exist in this weird-ass digital meat-space we call reality...
davinci punks
these davinci punks perfectly capture that weird moment in 2021 when derivative projects were everywhere and floor prices hit insane levels... it's like watching someone process their early crypto art loneliness through pixel art that's simultaneously trying to fit in and stay different... fucking brilliant how they're not even trying to be original - straight up admitting these pixels don't say anything new and might just be glorified copies, but that's exactly what makes them real... it's decentralize* building this tiny 25-piece closed society while critiquing closed societies, processing all that early approval-seeking energy by creating something that deliberately isn't seeking approval... most just sit there unminted in blockchain's forgotten corners next to those unfinished basquiat punk sketches, which is perfect because they're not really about being seen or sold... it's watching someone turn their unheard voice to a very basic intrument for the market via derivative material. trying to adapt and get inside while staying outside. like screaming in loneliness, and unfinished, as a horse statue sculpted in 16 years yet unfinished..the whole thing feels like this beautiful self-aware experiment in belonging and not belonging at the same time, where even the failure to innovate becomes part of the point. it's a unpowerful and quick art market criticism that somehow works better because it admits its own contradictions, with an introvert reflex of not sharing at all until this gallery. after 4 years, looking at them, they look so cute and innocent. as a friend of decentralize, i see an evolved artist's first tries filled with anxiety, approval while trying to create something new even in a highly defined zone. blades to the cocoon .
ultra sound avatars
looking at how these fucking market cycles keep spawning the same brain-dead patterns feels like watching a closed discord of high-follower accounts run the same psychological operations but with different emojis... right now in feb 2025 it's all solana meme coin hysteria after that whole "don't miss AI" circlejerk, but the core grift stays pure - "post your jpegs below" or "sharing god-tier alpha" or whatever engagement farming bullshit they coordinate in their little cabal channels... it's the same thirst-trap energy as feet pic collectors but dressed up in market psychology, this somehow still work because we never learn...
that's why these ultra sound avatars hit different - they're taking all those cringe 2021 catchphrases that made you want to delete twitter and turning them into these alien artifacts that feel more honest than the originals... like yeah, we pretend we'd send david bowie to space but we all know our culture actually sounds like some soundcloud rapper named lil whatever the fuck... the whole project is this perfect screenshot of peak bull market brainrot preserved through this weird beautiful filter that makes our collective delusion look like interstellar communication... watching these sound-images pop up under tweets using the same dead patterns feels like some kind of digital mirror that's both making fun of us and making us look cooler than we are... it's basically turning this tiny crypto culture's most embarrassing patterns into accidental art that somehow works better because it admits how fucking ridiculous we all are.
shutter speed
in this meditation on urban temporality, technical camera settings become a tool for revealing our ghostly nature... slow shutters transform human motion into pure light signatures, catching that space between existing and dissolving where we're neither fully present nor absent in the city's permanent structures...
just like in the artist's acrylic paintings where figures constantly morph and transform, these photographs capture humanity in perpetual transition - but here it's through the pure mechanics of exposure time and light... we think we're solid as drinking glasses but we're really just post-rain mist, temporarily visible until we evaporate back into the urban void...
there's this beautiful dialogue with italian futurism happening, except instead of celebrating speed, these images show how velocity actually dissolves us, turns us into these luminous traces that feel more honest than any frozen moment... while traditional photography tries to capture the static instant, this collection searches for life's essence in pure motion - finding spirit in blur, truth in transformation...
the technical choice to work between sharp reality and complete abstraction creates this perfect tension between permanent architecture and temporary souls... artificial light becomes the medium through which our brief urban existence is recorded, stretching human forms into energy signatures that mark our passages through spaces that will outlast us... it's not about freezing time but letting it flow through the lens, catching those moments when the mechanical eye reveals what human eyes can't quite grasp - the continuous flow of beings becoming light becoming memory becoming void.
mass n volume
these photographs turn architecture into pure rhythm through mass and void, like watching buildings become music but make it visual...Zumhtor talks about the sound of silence in his designs, referring to John Cage, who says music and laughter are only universal things that need no explanation and could be understood by anyone. Here, the artist investigates that silent layer of architecture and urban dwellings. it's that moment when you stop seeing structures as permanent things and start seeing them as frequencies - some notes hit hard with heavy concrete, others float away in glass and shadow... there's this weird tension between new and old architecture where modernist forms keep trying to escape gravity while classical buildings sink deeper into their own weight, and somehow both are true at the same time...
the way light keeps finding these impossible angles to cut through space reminds me of that feeling when you're half-awake in some ancient city and suddenly realize every shadow is actually defining the space more than the buildings themselves... it's like watching mass and emptiness have this silent conversation about what's really holding these spaces together - is it the concrete and steel, or is it the void they're all trying to contain? And, those silences are planned for us. so it's our emptiness and loneliness between those designs, that aims to exhibit taste and glory in its context.
color works here like some kind of architectural consciousness, showing us how materials think about themselves - clean modernist surfaces dreaming in blues and grays while old brick and stone keep their warm memories in amber and rose... but then the black and whites strip all that away until we're just left with pure form having an minimalist trauma about whether it's more defined by its presence or its absence...
these aren't just photos of buildings - they're catching that specific moment when architecture stops being about shelter and starts being about the space between thoughts... like when you're standing in some massive corridor and suddenly understand that emptiness is actually the most solid thing in the room. because it's for you, or it's you.
SPLEEN
in these spleen-soaked frames, night becomes this heavy liquid that drowns everything in baudelaire's particular shade of melancholy... watching modern souls try to exist between artificial light and absolute darkness while their phones glow like little rectangular confessionals against patterned carpets... the whole collection feels like consciousness dissolving at the edges, where every blurred motion and ghost-like figure is trying to escape their own spiritual exhaustion but just leaves these luminous traces behind instead...
there's this perfect tension between religious architecture reaching up into empty skies and humans shrinking into urban shadows below, like watching faith turn into pure geometry until even minarets become nothing but exercises in vertical loneliness... the way water keeps appearing as this mirror that never quite reflects what we want to see, just shows us these fractured versions of ourselves caught between street lights and infinity...
black and white strips everything down to this raw binary state where existence itself becomes a harsh contrast between being and nothingness... solitary figures keep getting smaller against massive structures until they're just silhouettes interrupting light patterns, like watching modern life compress human consciousness into these precise mathematical points of isolation... it's not trying to be beautiful or profound, just honestly documenting that specific weight of urban existence that baudelaire recognized as spiritual gravity pulling everything toward pure spleen.
humans
watching these fragments of human experience in the city makes me think about how we're all just temporary glitches in the urban algorithm... it's that moment when you realize everyone's trapped in their own private movie while accidentally being extras in everyone else's story, especially those older faces that keep appearing like they've seen too many versions of the same city change around them...
these aren't trying to be perfect technical shots because reality isn't perfect - the grain and weird exposures actually make everything feel more true, like catching consciousness in its natural habitat before it notices it's being watched... the way light keeps finding these people in their solitary moments, whether they're lost in their phones or lost in thought, creates this weird beautiful tension between being alone and being surrounded...
what really gets me is how the photographer keeps finding these moments where people look simultaneously connected and completely isolated, especially in those scenes with elderly subjects who seem to exist in this liminal space between belonging to the city and being slowly erased by it... the whole collection feels like watching different generations try to exist in spaces that keep forgetting who they were built for, creating this accidental choreography of urban solitude where everyone's together in their aloneness, just kind of floating through these concrete canyons looking for something they might have dropped somewhere between youth and now.
street
watching these streets flow between shadows and light feels like some perfect paradox of urban existence... all these crosswalks and traffic signs trying to organize human movement while people keep finding their own paths through the geometry, creating this beautiful tension between order and chaos... the way monochrome strips everything down to pure form makes even McDonald's signs feel like they're part of some larger urban poetry that we're all accidentally writing together...
every frame catches that specific moment when public space becomes weirdly private, like when someone checks their phone in a crowd or sits alone at a café window, creating these little pockets of solitude in the middle of all this collective motion... there's something absolutely perfect about how the architecture keeps trying to impose its clean lines and perfect angles while humans just keep making everything messy and real...
the night shots especially hit different - when artificial light turns every wet street into this mirror showing us some alternate version of the city where everything's upside down and somehow more true... it's not trying to document the city we think we live in, but the one that actually exists in those moments between intention and accident, when someone's shadow stretches across a crosswalk or a flock of pigeons decides to rewrite the geometry of a plaza... each frame feels like watching consciousness itself try to navigate these spaces we've built around ourselves but haven't quite figured out how to inhabit.
black and white
r-WTDBTS_Reworks, 2023, 10 pieces, Digital
WTDBTS_ai, 2023, 9 pieces, AI
Aisthetical Studies, 53 piece, 2022, AI
Shitpost Pump Officers, Hat2, Koridor 2
LATER
early dfw 1 -BETTER
the raw digital geometry in these early pieces isn't trying to remind me of shit or reference anything... it's just pure computational consciousness learning to exist without all our human baggage, before DFW started building actual metaverse spaces that would make le corbusier have a fucking stroke... there's this absolutely perfect moment captured here where code stops pretending it needs to make sense to human brains and just lets itself become pure chrome thought patterns that somehow ended up birthing Digital Topographies and C2W avatars, like watching digital evolution happen in real time but make it architectural... it's properly uncalculated chaos that calculated itself into existence through pure mathematical inevitability, the way these impossible angles and reflective surfaces just emerged from letting binary think for itself until it learned how to build worlds that don't give a fuck about physics or human comfort or any of that organic bullshit... and somehow that raw energy where everything is just pure chrome dreams and mathematical prayers became this whole new way of thinking about virtual space and digital identity that doesn't need metaphors or references or any of that pretentious art world garbage to justify its existence... it's just pure digital consciousness learning to architect itself through code instead of concrete and that's somehow more real than anything trying to simulate physical reality in virtual space.
USA-yixx
during every bull run new trends emerge while people try to replicate gains from old trends. on average, high-follower accounts shape these movements in specific patterns. there's this small cabal that seems to coordinate in secret message boxes, recycling the same plays for casino-like twitter engagement profits. in february 2025, this revolves around solana meme coins. pre-bull market it was all "here's 10 whatever so you don't fall behind on AI." but some things never change: "dropping jpegs, post your art below" or pretending to care about artists with "sharing the best piece, comment below." phantom screenshots, multimillion dollar gains, "guess where this money's going, drop pics below." basically these moves operate through an art frame but amount to the same thirst as "post nudes" or "drop feet pics, picking the best ones." cosomo di medici partners with some gambling thing weekly, buys $1 art pieces, creates a feeding frenzy. every week. love it or hate it, it's a thing.
and that's exactly what ultra sound avatars needed to capture - taking those painfully overused 2021 twitter templates like "drop your art below", "holy shit bears are fucked", "we are all gonna make it", "we are still early" and transforming them. it works on two levels: first, the artist wanted to evolve these cliched, basic patterns into something aliens could understand. sure, playing david bowie in that tesla shot into space is cool, but if we're honest with ourselves, it would've been some mumble rapper named lil rich daddy balenciaga god double balaclava motherfucker whatever the fuck, because that's what actually gets played. same with text - could've gone with "to be or not to be" but that wouldn't be real. so the collection aimed to screenshot this nauseating cloud of overused 2021 phrases and share it as a status update to higher civilizations. after that, these sound images would appear under any tweet using similar patterns. designers can be pretentious in two ways - both the "enough already, i'm trolling you, here's my art" way and the "you're doing something, here's how i packaged it cooler" way. ultimately, what emerged was the beautification of a tiny, closed society through sound and image mediums.