The Limb We Mistook For a Tool

I wanted the horizon itself to confess that the device was never outside us. I split the image into charged air and magnetic wood so the filings rise like a reflex, while algorithmic jetstreams misregister and overwrite a palimpsest zone where pre-residue, active surge, and post-scar sit on the same skin. I chose nocturnal ultraviolet, ozone teal, and incision-magnesia to stage ecstatic vertigo at a dissolving seam; look where the seam doesn’t blend but erases—here the reflex is brighter than intention, and you suddenly see in a spectrum you already owned.