Numogram — Lesbian Futurity

The crypt becomes a post-digital storage chamber. Burial space ↔ data storage ↔ memory architecture. The void is not empty — it is ritualistic: a space where disappearance is acknowledged rather than denied. The internet as archive, graveyard, ghost structure. Screens as contemporary tombstones. "The world began when the archive overflowed and leaked into reality." A Soundcloud playlist with 3 hours of ghost-time, the Tumblr purge, the hard drive in the drawer. Untethered temporality: the sculpture exists outside linear time. The crypt is where data, memory, loss, and longing are sedimented. This is where the work begins: descent into the hole, the Jungian unconscious — "a place where heaven and earth meet."

Language arrives already fragmented. Born into ahistorical blip culture — pure material signifiers, disconnected events we can't string into narrative. Text, fragments, captions, DM-logic, chat logs. The signal doesn't cohere; it doesn't need to. Naming what is "impossible." Fiction first appears here — not as story but as a series of unrelated presents in time. The correlate of a future that won't arrive is the past that won't disappear. But the signal still carries. It still transmits.

The screen is not a window. It is a membrane. Crossing it alters you — dissolving edges, amplifying intensities. Video, projection, digital presence. Online/offline blur. Bodies mediated, delayed, looped. The signal gains sensory credibility — but not through realism. Through glitch, distortion, uncanniness. These emerging technologies capture the abstract, the hidden, the complicated. "Virtual Reality projects frequently promise experiences so realistic you won't believe you are in VR. I'm interested in the opposite." The portal doesn't show you another world. It starts to make you into one.

Resin, silicone, 3D-printed old websites. Pouring memory into form. Desire made physical. The sculpture is not illustration — it is a body that desire has produced. Downloaded fragments become sculptural mass. Digital detritus becomes weight, texture, duration. Glitch relics. Fanart fossils. "The work goes through me. I am merely a vessel filtering. The work itself is a sort of emotional response." Mode of production: intentional setting of moods, spending time with the work, constant exchange. Utilizing external input that generates something through me as vessel. "Meet it with your body in the exhibition space — it's not demanding your time but your presence." Fiction acquires mass. Rematerializing the dematerialized. Turning pixels into bodies, bodies into projections, projections into worlds.

Not representation. Deterritorialized desire. Taking back the gaze: shifting from outsider (voyeuristic, pornographic, objectifying) to ingroup — admiration, recognition, visibility. "Invisibility can foster visibility as well — each instance of invisibility leaves a trace." Violets: Sappho wore them in 600 BC, Bourdet's 1926 play caused uproar, women wore violets as resistance. The color ultraviolet — beyond the visible spectrum, like lesbian history itself. "Lesbianism is not specifically prohibited because it has not even made its way into the thinkable." (Butler) The work doesn't illustrate lesbian identity — it operates through it. Reorganization of care, time, intimacy. The lesbian canon "unforgetting." Reframing, recontextualizing through the lesbian gaze. Building on top of what has not been washed away. Cute accelerationism: cuteness as the ultimate tool for circumventing censorship.

Angels are not divine. They are infrastructural operative agents. Messengers between realms — reality/future, online/offline, dream/waking. They function like APIs, algorithms, moderators, protocols. Cybernetic figures mediating desire, memory, and transmission between systems. Technognosis: spirituality produced by tech systems — a shared hallucination, synthetic and constructed. Lesbovampiric contagion-libido: sexuality as transmission vector. Counter-sexuality, technobiotic assemblages, "non-gendered femininity as primal fluid state." The digital virus is pleasure. Hyperstition as temporal engineering: fiction → affect → material change. The installation performs temporal engineering — altering people's sense of what's possible. Reality adjusts. People act differently afterward. "Nobody dares to dream anymore" — the future imagery hijacked. This is the response: fiction that reclaims speculation.

Fiction reclaims the future. Left Hyperstition (Fisher): speculative fiction as political technology for liberation. "Nobody dares to make predictions for the future anymore. Maybe because they're scared. The internet is dead, everything seems to go downhill. So nobody dares to dream anymore. The future imagery is in the hands of truth social AI-generated war crimes, fe!n edits of genocide, fundamentalist christian trad wife slop." The work answers: we must reclaim speculation. Queer myth-engineering: every speculative fragment is a mythic seed that infects the real with the possibility of queer futures. Worldbuilding becomes a lived infrastructure of preservation and sharing — utopia enacted in the present, not deferred. Concrete utopia (Bloch): hope as anticipatory. The future remembers itself. "Of course this was coming." The hyperstition completes its cycle — then spirals back to 0, now altered. The machine wants to run again.