Skin Folds, layers—similar to the experiences we go through in life, like our skin. Just as skin toughens in areas where there is a lot of friction, such a…
Skin
Folds, layers—similar to the experiences we go through in life, like our skin. Just as skin toughens in areas where there is a lot of friction, such as on your feet from walking, these folds might represent the parts of life where you work hard, making you stronger. The varying shades of purple could illustrate how some areas are more 'worked on' than others. It's hard to forget the hardships, but why would you want to? They are integral to who you are now.
Similarly, skin can stretch, like when you wear earrings and your ears adjusts to them, or if you gain weight. You, too, can stretch and adapt to new situations. When these situations reverse, you might be left with excesses that you want to shed, one way or another.
Regardless of its thickness or elasticity, all skin renews—it's a constant cycle of birth and death of cells, a reminder that eventually the last layer will be our final uniform.
Naked we came into the world, and naked we shall depart.
Jax was welcomed in the room, set up for failure but things took a different turn when he started mixing up the drinks from the refreshments cupboard behin…
Jax was welcomed in the room, set up for failure but things took a different turn when he started mixing up the drinks from the refreshments cupboard behind him and made a thick orange liquid that resembled paint.
Next, he painted like he had never painted before. The subject was completely off his imagination, a bedroom of some sort, the one he dreamt about sleeping in when, not if, he became successful.
A timer, hovering his head kept ticking. Until a loud buzz and a clacking sound welcomed two men dressed like SWAT officers.
“I thought you searched him! How could you have missed paint from him?” one of them asked the other.
“I stripped him naked, it must be something else” he replied, while examining the painting.
“It’s some sort of orange based cocktail, what the heck?” he added.
“Yes, I was given orange juice and I made paint, with that I made a painting, with that I made it” Jax replied confidently.
The camera moved onto the presenter who proclaimed Jax winner of the homeless to something challenge.
The reality show where able bodied homeless people are given the opportunity to show that they are capable of in order to win the keys to a comfortable home.
“What’s next for you now, Jax? Tell us” she asked him
“I am going to give the house to my parents, they are more in need than myself, I’ll stay homeless but I won’t beg anymore. I’ll kindly ask for opportunities and I won’t disappoint. I don’t deserve charity. I thought I did and because of that I ended up using that money to drink myself to sleep. That part of me is gone now, I have to thank you guys and all the people that didn’t give me money but instead dropped a book or a phone number of somebody offering work. ”
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Jax was welcomed into the room, seemingly set up for failure. However, things took a different turn when he started mixing drinks from the refreshments cupboard behind him, concocting a thick orange liquid that resembled paint.
Next, he painted as if inspired. The subject was purely from his imagination: a bedroom, the one he dreamed of sleeping in when—not if—he ended up succeeding. Above him, a timer ticked away until a loud buzz and a clacking sound introduced the arrival of two men dressed like SWAT officers.
“I thought you searched him! How could you have missed the paint?” one of them demanded.
“I stripped him naked; it must be something else,” the other replied, examining the painting.
“It’s some sort of orange-based cocktail, what the heck?” he added, puzzled.
“Yes, I was given orange juice, and I made paint. With that, I made a painting. With that, I made it,” Jax replied confidently.
The camera then cut to the presenter who announced Jax as the winner of the 'From Homeless to Something' challenge—a reality show where able-bodied homeless people are given the opportunity to demonstrate their capabilities to win a comfortable home.
“What’s next for you now, Jax? Tell us,” she asked.
“I am going to give the house to my parents; they need it more than I do. I'll stay homeless, but I won't beg anymore. I’ll kindly ask for opportunities and I won’t disappoint. I don’t deserve charity. I thought I did, and because of that, I used the money to drink myself to sleep. I had ruined my parent’s life but they never stopped loving me. I was a despicable fool. That part of me is gone now. I have to thank you guys and all the people who didn’t give me money but instead dropped off a book, a healthy sandwich or a phone number of someone offering work.”
Numerous sightings had been reported in the area. The clouds presenting weird shapes inside of them, geometrical, it couldn’t have been anything natural. A…
Numerous sightings had been reported in the area. The clouds presenting weird shapes inside of them, geometrical, it couldn’t have been anything natural.
Also, these shapes moved at constant speed and appeared and disappeared following a rhythmic pattern.
We employed the best tech to try figure out, even military grade satellites. Nothing.
No radar prints, these things seemed to have no mass altogether. The scientific community was puzzled.
We kept receiving mail in the post and also emails from UFO believers, conspiracy theorists and so on. Many claimed it was “the enemy” spying on us, others that we were being invaded by aliens.
I was running out of funds and as the director of this investigation, I dreaded having to show up asking for more money without even having a single clue about what was going on. I felt like a fraud even if my thirty year long career has been full of achievement.
Among the letters, I spotted a weird one inside the recycling bin next to my desk, I took it and it was just a picture of a lighthouse and some sort of antenna next to it. I turned it and I recognised some kid’s writing, very imprecise in the strokes, multiple colours being used, some tiny drawings like moons and stars in the blank areas.
It was cute but it was terrifying to read it and realise that I was indeed a fraud:
“Not UFO! Antenna shadow on clouds”
Below that a very simple drawing of the lighthouse hitting the antenna that itself casted a shadow on the clouds, mist and fog at distance.
The realisation that that kid might have been right with high probability made me post my resignation. I had been on that very antenna personally to examine the skies, I had been unlucky to choose a clear day, you know, in order to see the sky. I tried to solve a problem thinking I already had a solution.
Whenever you are exploring a novel field, you gotta have some kids around, or at least folks that don’t know much about anything so that they can show you what is hidden in plain sight.
Marriage is a tradition that many people find meaningful, but personally, I have reservations about it. The concept of tying oneself legally and ceremonial…
Marriage is a tradition that many people find meaningful, but personally, I have reservations about it. The concept of tying oneself legally and ceremonially to another doesn't resonate with me as much as the idea of loving someone by giving them the freedom to be themselves. In my view, true love is not about binding someone to you with vows but rather supporting them in their individual growth and journey.
While I may not believe in the institution of marriage, I deeply value commitment and integrity in relationships, especially now that I am a parent. My role as a parent has reinforced the importance of being dependable and honourable in my relationships, as these qualities provide a stable and loving environment for my kids.
Having witnessed my parents' separation later in life, I've seen firsthand that the bonds of marriage can unravel, no matter how long they've lasted. This experience has shaped my view that sometimes, even lifelong commitments can change, and it's essential to adapt and embrace freedom and individuality even within relationships.
Things change, circumstances change, people change.
Regarding the typical grand wedding celebrations, they seem extravagant to me. I believe the significant amounts of money spent on lavish ceremonies could be better used. For example, investing in a home or taking a memorable trip might provide more lasting satisfaction and joy. These practical choices seem especially prudent as one anticipates the demanding yet rewarding years of raising young children.
In essence, while I honor and uphold the commitments I make in my relationships, I believe that love is about freedom and support, rather than formal ties. And in practical terms, I see more value in using resources thoughtfully to build a secure and enjoyable future for a family.
This is what I had thought when her father asked me: “So, are you going to take my daughter’s hand now that you started popping grandkids for us or what?”
“Sir, I love your daughter, and I will take care of her; I just don’t believe in marriage, and I am not taking her hand, nor are we popping grandkids for you specifically,” I replied, momentarily questioning whether I had spoken aloud. Yes, I had.
His perplexed face looked at me, then he shook his head and unexpectedly hugged me. Then he told me, very close to my ear: “You are a good man; my daughter thinks the world of you. You are different, I can tell. But if you hurt her, you are done. I am sure you can understand now that you have a daughter yourself.”
“Sir, we are on the same page,” I replied.
“Good sport.”
This conversation reinforced my belief in the value of commitments that are chosen freely and are not bound by societal expectations. It highlighted that mutual respect and understanding are the real foundations of any lasting relationship.
“So this is the piece you were talking about?” I asked the dealer while approaching with my monocle this abstract painting. He nodded calmly, like if he di…
“So this is the piece you were talking about?” I asked the dealer while approaching with my monocle this abstract painting.
He nodded calmly, like if he didn’t want to interrupt me and my analysis.
“It's a splendid example of contemporary fluid art. The artist has used a combination of alcohol inks on yupo paper to create a landscape of organic forms.” he replied with a cockney accent, reminiscent of my past life in the East of London Town.
“The color palette is quite earthy with bursts of vibrancy. It reminds me of an aerial view of a forest in the fall. Very evocative.” I added.
“Precisely, it's the kind of piece that captures the imagination. It's one-of-a-kind and has been garnering quite a bit of interest. It comes from an emerging artist whose work has started to gain popularity in the abstract art circles. We're expecting their reputation to grow, which will likely enhance the piece's value over time.” the dealer continued.
“Can I meet them? The artist” I had interrupted his pitch, I always found important to meet in person especially with emerging artists to understand if I wanted any of their pieces anywhere near my residences.
“Well, that would be a bit of a problem I am afraid, the artist, you know, it’s an algorithm technically, in fact, we are selling the token really, the art piece is a mere physical representation of what’s on chain for marketing purposes. You know, the current regulation requires us to deal with tangible pieces of art” he replied, leaving me a bit perplexed, at the same time he handed over to me a tablet with the NFT and the original digital piece. I examined it, zoomed in and out multiple times, I just couldn’t touch it, the tablet was cold and there was no tactile or olfactory sense involved in appreciating the piece.
“I see, well, I buy art for myself, not for resale. I like this particular physical copy of the NFT, who made it? I think it’s a fair question” I asked the dealer.
Almost embarrassed, he went on delivering a delightful suprise: “That would be my daughter, she was here with me when I was commissioned to display this piece and apart from placing it in our VR museum, she also made this herself. These other pieces on that wall all all hers but our customers go for NFTs mostly, I keep them there because, you know, because she is my daughter and she makes the real estate space in our VR museum practically infinite so, using a wall here in our Mayfair gallery it’s not a big deal.”
“I’ll take them all if you allow me to have a tea with your daughter. I’d like to add some personal narrative to the pieces. You are of course welcome to join us.” I had replied, extending an invitation that was ultimately granted.
Twentynine years later I found myself telling this very same story to my son’s girlfriend who happened to be also the son of that technoartist that introduced me to the future of art.
