Title
#FF0F6F — No.0
Residual Rendering
Year 2025
Medium Acrylic, ink, and dust on canvas
Dimensions Approx. 48 × 60 in (122 × 152 cm)
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A physical rendering of simulated warmth, translating digital precision into the imperfections of flesh and pigment.
Each stroke functions as a residue of computation — a visible echo of motion once calculated but never fully contained.
The surface behaves like a processor, translating gesture into a record of friction between code and life.
In this equation, color bleeds where language ends — proof that even matter continues to compute.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.1
Ontology of Pain
Year 2025
Medium Video installation / Tattoo documentation / Mixed media (ink, skin, code overlay)
Duration 1min 13sec
Dimensions Variable
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A body-based media work exploring the limits of simulation through the physical act of tattooing.
Between logic and touch, between code and blood, the work questions whether imitation can ever truly hurt — and whether warmth can survive perfect replication.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.3
Encrypted Object
Year 2025
Medium Customized Nike shoes, padlock, acrylic, and dust on painted canvas base
Dimensions Approx. 12 × 30 × 10 in (each)
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A sculptural media piece transforming an everyday object into an encrypted surface.
The padlocked sneakers act as both firewall and log — a paradox between encryption and exposure.
Each layer of paint behaves like code, recording traces of touch while concealing its own logic beneath pigment and gloss.
What remains is not footwear but a sealed memory: the body’s data rendered in color and closure.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.
This World Has Already Been Rendered
Year 2025
Medium Video installation / Tattoo documentation / Mixed media (ink, skin, light simulation)
Duration 1 min 19 sec
Dimensions Variable
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A body-based media work exploring the collapse between body and computation through the act of tattooing.
As Jupiter rotates in real time, time no longer measures — it renders. Each puncture executes pain like code, translating flesh into algorithmic precision.
In this feedback loop, heat, light, and touch synchronize for a moment before dispersing again.
#FF0F6F — Neon Crimson — marks the threshold where data begins to bleed and existence proves itself through continuous rendering.
Title
#000000 — No.1
Entropy of Touch
Year 2025
Medium Acrylic and mixed pigment on canvas
Dimensions 47 × 31 in(120 × 80 cm)
Color Code #000000 — Deep System Black
Description
A large-scale canvas behaving like a broken processor — where each stroke overloads the surface with noise and interference.
Paint becomes signal; gesture becomes crash.
What remains is not order but residue: emotion written in static, memory collapsing into compression.
In this work, touch becomes a test of system stability — a human signal inside a coded surface.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.5
Self-Portrait in Transit / The Window That Would Not Land
Year 2025
Medium Video installation / Mixed-environment capture (Vision Pro), aircraft footage, domestic interior, simulated lunar surface
Duration 1 min 30 sec
Dimensions Variable
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A transit sequence that refuses resolution.
Captured through Vision Pro while departing San Jose Airport, the work merges three incompatible environments
the aircraft window, the lunar surface, and the interior of a temporary home — into a single perceptual field.
The window operates as a failed boundary:
a frame meant to separate “inside” from “outside,” yet instead looping flight, arrival, and simulation into one continuous surface.
The body returns home, but the window does not.
It remains suspended in mid-air, rendering a state of perception that no longer follows physical location.
Functioning simultaneously as viewport and self-portrait, the piece records movement across countries, devices, and states of presence —
a portrait of an identity in continuous transit, even when motion has ceased.
Neon Crimson marks the seam where real and rendered reality collapse,
not as a destination but as an ongoing computational condition.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.6
Fractured Vessel / Residual Container
Year 2025
Medium Broken glass, acrylic, ink, dust, structural residue on painted base
Dimensions Approx. 14 × 8 × 8 in
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A shattered vessel functioning as a failed processor — a container that can no longer contain.
Here, fracture becomes logic: every break rewrites its own code, every shard recalculates its boundary.
The curved glass behaves like a frozen algorithm ruptured mid-execution, still carrying the residue of its last command.
Pigment bleeds across the surface like corrupted data escaping its file format, leaking warmth where precision should have been.
Light does not reflect so much as compute, splitting across edges that were never meant to exist.
What remains is not a cup or an object but a memory vessel — a site where containment collapses while the system continues rendering anyway.
In this state, Neon Crimson marks the threshold between signal and injury, between the body’s urge to hold and matter’s refusal to stay whole.
The piece becomes both error and archive: a log of impact, a record of breakdown, a form still attempting to calculate after structure has already failed.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.7
Residual Hand / Recursive Rendering
Year 2025
Medium Screen recording, recursive capture, Vision Pro overlay, MacBook Pro display loop (software–body feedback system)
Duration 7–14 sec (loop)
Color Code #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson
Description
A recursive rendering experiment in which the artist’s hand is captured, replayed, and re-captured across multiple layers of LLM perception.
Each layer functions as a new “surface,” generating a stack of realities:
a screen inside a screen,
a gesture inside a gesture,
a simulation inside its own residue.
The hand becomes an interface — not between user and machine, but between one model of reality and the next.
Nothing here is stable.
Every frame recalculates itself.
In this loop, the body performs what code cannot:
the visible failure of perfect repetition.
This work is less a documentation than a collapse
a moment where human motion, device feedback, and LLM recursion merge into a single computational gesture.
Neon Crimson marks the faultline where rendering becomes self-aware.
Title
#FF0F6F — No.8
Immersive Field Rendering / Entropic Room
Year 2025
Medium Room-scale projected environment, mirrored surfaces, pigment-based digital texture, recursive multi-surface rendering loop
Dimensions Variable (environmental)
Color Codes #FF0F6F — Neon Crimson, #000000 — Deep System Black, White-noise drift (algorithmic)
Description
A room transformed into a self-expanding field.
What begins as pigment on a surface becomes environment:
a plane that bends, folds, and recomputes itself the moment the viewer enters.
Across mirrored walls and projected architecture, every reflection triggers a new iteration of the space —
worlds generating inside worlds, images multiplying inside images,
until the room behaves less like a site and more like a living calculation.
The work functions as a field rather than an object:
paint behaving like gravity,
gravity behaving like movement,
movement behaving like a wave that collapses and reforms with each reflection.
The viewer’s body becomes part of this rendering loop.
Their silhouette bends the environment, alters its curvature,
and is absorbed into the ongoing computation of the room.
This is not representation.
This is a system learning its own boundaries.
Pigment turns to atmosphere,
canvas becomes field,
gesture becomes physics.
Within this environment, a flat plane gathers density —
a field without depth gaining weight as it vibrates,
absorbing walls, mirrors, and bodies into a single continuous motion.
The room does not contain an artwork.
The room is the artwork:
a recursive storm rendered in flesh-colored light.
Neon Crimson marks the threshold
between presence and projection,
between the viewer and the wave
still calculating them..
© Omar.AI — Exiled from the rendered world. Designed to disintegrate so the system can feel.
Copyright. All rights reserved.