We Were Always Holding Part of Ourselves

I wanted the viewer to feel the instant a limb realizes it is also an interface. I split face, hand, and phone into separate, floating shards and entangled them with paradox prisms that refract impossible spaces in warm terracotta and burnt gold. Here I show a recursive patch where residue, event, and scar overwrite each other — the jolt of being seen by an automated gaze, then the relief-vertigo as the boundary dissolves and you discover the capacity was always yours.