Crystals of Memory

This screenshot shows the views inside the immersive space closer to the edge of the crystal clusters. The visitors see the outer edges of the crystal cluster as a transparent outline of rock similar to quartz formations. The rock is wrapped with a translucent gold-speckled texture stretching across the extruded surfaces. The background is pitch black, making the sculptural space appear as if it floats in a virtual vacuum.

In this capture, the visitor sees several fractured rock formations clustered together like space debris. The clusters are colored with sections of the sky, city buildings, and trees. These sculptures appear decomposed into low polygon sections, making it difficult for the visitor to make out the complete picture of the places mapped onto the surfaces of 3D shapes. 

Visitors encounter a view similar to this depiction when they enter the immersive space. Various colored low polygon 3D rocks surround the visitor. These rocks appear floating next to each other, wrapped with small fragments of what seem as pixelated photos of cityscapes. In these fragments, one can barely distinguish the outlines of trees, buildings, and concrete floor tiles. The majority of the textures are stretched, pixelated, and blurred. These images were purposely decomposed and degenerated with a combination of AI algorithms.

Is there a place for reminiscence at this time? In our uprootedness, we carry the memory with an awareness of future decay and honour daily reminders of original meanings.

Slowly walking forward towards the saturated serenity of urban overgrowth overwhelms our expectations. Friends drift apart, losing each other through a longing to reconnect, one in a million chances.

With the mixing of languages in surzhik style, the elephant in the park stands as a palace for teenage discoveries. Welcome my friend to the place of painting and repainting. The elephant, the symbol of childhood innocence, morphs into a persistent call.

A steady polyphony of voices raises counterstatements in an eternal bloody stalemate. Is it easier to look away and forget, or will the collective volition swing us back contrary to the perceived notions, projections and prophecies?

What language do you use to say hello these days as we are standing here, each in our own step, striding in synchronicity towards the ultimate edge of the cliff, guided by our talents just to meet again in the nothingness of cancelled time?

In this liminal space, there is always a single step in one direction and then another. One of these is wrong, she tells us. One day she will be gone just to realize that her side is gone as well. Then the space in between the daily walks disappears forever. There is no one to comfort here.

Indian summer stands at the crossroads of what is appropriate and desired when the webs of dark science devise the ultimate solutions for our wellbeing. Can you catch the spider web in your hand and make the time fall backwards just as gravity does every day?

My recollection drifts in an all-encompassing landscape of possibilities: into the red and the green of the familiar and distant and the same. How do we tell ourselves apart, intertwined between right and wrong? Forced compassion makes us step in opposite directions without understanding where this place came from.

You wish to speak your mother tongue, so you remember what it was like to be held in tight and warm arms. The colour blue of the hospital wall strips is here to remind you of the calm before the storm, happening all the time, every generation, for the last thousand years since the Great Peace Owner projected his perception of peace.

We say we will never forget and never forgive. It is easy to get lost in the day-to-day, closing our eyes and drifting into routine fantasy. We must find a way to remember and forgive every day.