The Friction
of Existence

I spent twenty-five years architecting systems where friction was treated as a design flaw.
As a CIO, I optimized the city—compressing movement, emotion, and error into executable code.
What emerged was not utopia, but latency: a civilization operating faster than its own perception.

Now, I turn the same logic against itself.
Through photography, I perform a system audit of the urban code—tracing the bugs, dead loops, and exception handlings that expose the gap between optimization and existence.
Each image functions as a diagnostic log, recording the silent collisions between protocol and flesh, interface and instinct.

The square format is deliberate.
It is the geometry of compliance—the default container of the digital age.
Within its rigid symmetry, I compress the organic noise of life until it distorts the frame itself.

This is not nostalgia for the analog.
It is an inquiry into what remains non-executable—what resists compilation—within the seamless illusion of progress.

I do not seek beauty; I locate system failure.
And in that failure, I recognize the persistence of the real.