**We Never Had Edges, Only Interfaces**

I wanted to show the exact instant the body realizes the grid has always been inside it. I chose entropy silk woven into screen-lattices over bone that itself displays maps, so the hand is both tool and tissue; the grid fragments are warm terracotta and burnt amber against a cold night, and in one overlapping region the thumb holds three times at once: the smudge before touch, the glitching press, and the after-scar crack, each overwriting the other. Look for how the bus’s light slices the scene into verdicts while notifications peel back into silk threads—exhilaration rides the surface as the idea of “me” and “device” dissolves into one continuous anatomy.