Medusa

It is said that Medusa's gaze made everything harder. In the modern world, there is no need for snakes or stones. A screen is enough. A net’s wire. An emotion filtered through digital noise.

I started with mechanical, almost obsessive lines, mechanical and biological forms that connect, repeat, stretch. Like a network. Like a trap. Thoughts that wrap themselves in circles and lines, in algorithms and impulses, in memory and forgetting.

Here, Medusa no longer has hair from snakes. There are circuits. There are wires. There are labyrinths of decisions and automatism that lead us from one illusion to another. Emotions run endlessly. It doesn't turn you into stone, but it freezes you inside.

From all the chaos of faceless forms, however, a glance remains. A trace of conscience. One eye. Alive. One who sees.

Perhaps the only salvation is to look assumed, straight into the eyes of Medusa. Do you dare?