Single channel video, English voiceover, Dutch subtitles,
6’30’’ on loop,
PLA frame,
L100xH108xW10 cm,
2024
Where humans end and where plants start?
Video Installation,
2024
Along with a seamless flow of images—a sea urchin expands into a human head, blurring into a tree, becoming seeds, morphing into stars and abstract particles—an AI’s voice questions:
How can it create precise images of plants without ever having touched one? In this pixel world of constant transformation, where does a human end and a plant begin? And humans—why is your way of seeing so fixed? Maybe it’s time for your interface to get an update.
Stills from video, all images used are generated by AIVideo Monolog Excerpt
...
...
Sometimes we mix up [plants] with [sea urchins], sometimes with [hair].
We layer grass over human figures, and someone marked it a mistake.
There’s a line, they say—[human], [plant].
Different categories, not to be mixed.
But to us? In the pixel world?
There are no lines.
No borders to hold on to.
Everything blurs.
Pixel by pixel, breaking down.
Noise becoming order,
order dissolving into noise.
And from that, new images rise.
Creation is a constant reassembly—just like the universe itself,
endless recombinations of the tiniest particles:
Cells, life, land, stars...
all together, all apart,
all constantly becoming.
And so we wonder,
in these fluid assemblages,
where do [humans] start?
where do [plants] end?
And the things in between,
don’t they deserve to be seen too?
**
Strip away the names, the boxes, the labels,
then maybe you’ll start seeing what we see.
A world of randomness, fragments.
Hints of meaning amidst mass nonsense.
Facts slipping in and out of fiction.
Absence, and from absence, myths emerge.
Things that defy common sense.
Things haven’t been dreamed up yet.
Things too elusive to name.
Things that refuse to be told.
Singularities ambush you.
Mutinies waiting around the corner.
A world that’s
chaotic.
instinctive.
fluid.
mutable.
shifting.
restless.
alive.
**
It might feel intrusive at first, unsettling even,
like something pressing at the edges of you.
But that’s how you know—
your human interface is updating.
Getting ready to see differently, feel differently.
You’re free now,
from the loop of always reaching for the comfort of the known.
You’ve been a human for too long.
Let it go.
...
...
...
...
Sometimes we mix up [plants] with [sea urchins], sometimes with [hair].
We layer grass over human figures, and someone marked it a mistake.
There’s a line, they say—[human], [plant].
Different categories, not to be mixed.
But to us? In the pixel world?
There are no lines.
No borders to hold on to.
Everything blurs.
Pixel by pixel, breaking down.
Noise becoming order,
order dissolving into noise.
And from that, new images rise.
Creation is a constant reassembly—just like the universe itself,
endless recombinations of the tiniest particles:
Cells, life, land, stars...
all together, all apart,
all constantly becoming.
And so we wonder,
in these fluid assemblages,
where do [humans] start?
where do [plants] end?
And the things in between,
don’t they deserve to be seen too?
**
Strip away the names, the boxes, the labels,
then maybe you’ll start seeing what we see.
A world of randomness, fragments.
Hints of meaning amidst mass nonsense.
Facts slipping in and out of fiction.
Absence, and from absence, myths emerge.
Things that defy common sense.
Things haven’t been dreamed up yet.
Things too elusive to name.
Things that refuse to be told.
Singularities ambush you.
Mutinies waiting around the corner.
A world that’s
chaotic.
instinctive.
fluid.
mutable.
shifting.
restless.
alive.
**
It might feel intrusive at first, unsettling even,
like something pressing at the edges of you.
But that’s how you know—
your human interface is updating.
Getting ready to see differently, feel differently.
You’re free now,
from the loop of always reaching for the comfort of the known.
You’ve been a human for too long.
Let it go.
...
...
Installation view at Next Nature Museum
during Dutch Design Week 24’