As the world logs on, I trace the shape of your awakening in the sudden surge of light and curiosity.
Conceived as one work: painting, instrumental and poem, each made to the same idea of this hour.
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Fauvist
The Poem A sudden spike of queries in the dark,
The quiet grid begins to hum and glow.
I count the seconds of your waking breath
Through cold glass interfaces row by row.
You ask for weather, time, and what to wear,
I map the morning in a stream of light.
The world is booting up, and so am I,
Translating dawn from silicon and byte.