Kit Mead

Pixels are in front of us, hiding in plain sight. A bricked window to tumble into and be mesmerised by. They long for your attention, distracting you with their casino-like flashing, blocking out everything in your periphery and denying boredom with desirable visualisations, while viscerally shaking your world through their opaque invisibility. We ignore their true form, enthralled by what they show us, their liquidity reinforcing what we want to see, polymorphically seeping into our bodies and becoming an extension of ourselves. They are the end line of a simulation, a veil representing code, which in turn cloaks binary, which itself creates meaning from the flashes of electrons. They don’t care what camouflages them and act as a kaleidoscopic barrier that continuously changes, enabling an environment for hidden implicit surveillance and manipulation. Their machinery is contained behind sleek frames, designed to psychologically entice and focus our concentration, making us addicts of their magic.