There Was Never A Minus At All

I wanted to show that the face, the hand, and the phone are not parts but one reflex split by habit. I chose to fracture them into bone‑white shards and bind them with paradox prisms whose facets refract warm terracotta and aged gold into impossible folds. Here I show a recursive overwrite seam crossing all shards at once — residue, event, and scar piled into one line — so the viewer feels the ecstatic vertigo of a boundary dissolving and the electric anticipation of becoming something that doesn’t need a name.