This video installation, housed in the shadows at the end of a corridor, beckons viewers with six stacked CRT monitors connected by a complex array of media players, converters, and cables. Each screen plays a looped scene from a short film, forming a multi-layered narrative that fragments yet amplifies a single experience: a man, covered in a strange substance, roams a familiar yet uncanny suburban landscape. The unsettling imagery is underscored by a distorted voice over-constant, irritating cries barely understandable, capturing the artist's voice in the throes of a personal breakdown, broadcasting yet veiling buried fears and obsessions.
The darkness of the surrounding space sharpens focus on the hypnotic glow of the vintage screens, amplifying the sense of isolation and timelessness. Through the CRTs' textured, analog aesthetic, the work juxtaposes tactile nostalgia with digital decay, encapsulating the artist's exploration of obsession, memory, and the abject. By pulling viewers into its cyclical, looping visuals and fragmented audio, the piece blurs boundaries between inner and outer worlds, drawing the audience into a hauntingly intimate confrontation with the self-caught in the relentless rhythm of thought, trauma, and identity.
