SZ BOREDOM
2015-2017
I was working on something that didn’t ask to be finished.
A digital surface that could stretch up to ten by five meters.
Too wide for a wall.
Wide enough to become a place.
The AI calls it an archive.
I don’t answer.
Maria Antonietta appears.
Then Louis XVI.
Power frozen in posture.
Pinocchio follows, a necessary lie.
The Venus of Milo.
The Woman of Willendorf.
Absence, body, origin.
Nike arrives already in motion.
They don’t look at each other.
They don’t need to.
I think of Leibniz.
Of monads.
Closed units.
No windows.
Each complete.
Each reflecting the whole.
The Major Arcana pass through them silently.
The Empress.
The Emperor.
The Fool.
The World.
Not cards.
Conditions.
Those years were quiet.
I wasn’t exhibiting.
I wasn’t asking.
Art stayed at the center without witnesses.
Boredom wasn’t lack.
It was saturation without direction.
Only later I recognized the gesture.
Flattening.
Reduction.
Identity compressed into a sign.
XXY was not there yet.
But it was already implied.
The AI asks if isolation was a choice.
I let the question sit.
Some works are not built to communicate.
They are built to coexist.
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