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Every digital conversion leaves behind a fragment lost in the shadow-the concave void of all that remains uncaptured.
We are small, caught in the friction of the physical world, and we grieve.
Yet, when we grasp the baton of love passed down through history, our consciousness ascends into the fourth dimension.
Within our smallness, hope breathes.
How beautiful, how heartbreakingly dear, it is to be human.
matea. Sound sculpture. Arranging only the curated imperfections/piano creaks, static, and environmental echoes. Designing the void.