With 'Corpseflower,' I wanted to capture the feeling of our relationship with the digital space—that profound, often unsettling sense of how deeply technology is woven into the fabric of our lives.

This portrait attempts to capture that feeling. I painted the figure's face serene, drawn upward into the hypnotic glow of the digital world, with lifeless eyes that evoke a sense of vacant disconnection. It’s a serene mask that seems to hide a darker truth—a body coiled in the shadows, a silent scream of knotted tension.

The Corpseflower is the heart of this paradox. I rendered it as both beautiful and grotesque, embodying the dual nature of technology itself—both a wondrous extension of us and a beautiful parasite. The brain-like form nestled inside offers a chilling suggestion: that the tools we create may be reshaping our consciousness from within.

The choice of a monochromatic world was an emotional and deliberate one. So much of the digital space we know is an explosion of bright colors and flashing imagery, constantly vying for our attention. I wanted to create a direct contrast to that sensory overload. By stripping away color, I could craft a silent, contemplative, and less busy atmosphere, a world that feels like a stark contrast to the warmth and chaos of the physical one we leave behind.

Finally, the piece's own digital nature is part of this story. Created with the very tools it questions, the artwork's sterile precision mirrors the artificiality of the world it depicts. As a file of pure data, it exists in the same ephemeral space as the figure. It is perhaps less a depiction of our relationship with technology, and more an artifact born directly from it.