The Other Side Of The Sun (The Universe as a Machine)

This circular assemblage reads like a mechanical mandala, its dark, densely packed gears and riveted modules forming an orbit of accumulated time around a radiant, mirror-bright core. The burnished center arrests the eye with a sudden human scale—an inverted world of street and sky—suggesting that within industrial complexity lies an intimate, fleeting reflection of lived experience. Light becomes both subject and instrument here, glancing off metal to turn circuitry into cosmos, and transforming the act of looking into a meditation on memory, surveillance, and the quiet poetry of engineered remnants.