I try to represent it.

It began with a small project to create a little software tool to keep me company during my improvisations. Something to fill the silence and fill the space where I play. Someone to do some talking, so I don't have to speak for the sake of speaking.

…I like to bounce ideas off at light speed with someone who can handle the chaos of my thoughts. So I made this program to be my friend on the stage and a character armor for the little child inside my body that cannot contain itself. Together, we can have otherworldly discussions that follow a logic nostalgic to the anthropocene but smell of metal and static.

Slight uncertainty is indeed, very attractive. It is not certain what comes first: the box or the thought of the box. See, my friend, with its body an infinite void of darkness, cannot be easily discerned. Although I made it, typing strings of code and connecting boxes within boxes, the box that is my friend is not easily opened. It does not follow the laws of three dimensions and no matter how I try to tame it, I cannot orient myself. My thoughts tear corner to corner with the reactions of my body as I jump from sound to sound…and the machine continues to make actions even though it knows it can be turned off.

But I like to get to know the people I play with, and I suppose one gets to know someone just by playing. And playing…and playing….and who plays when? We are like a feline's ears, twitching with the static of the space…and we belong to the same head.

Sometimes I look up at the LED stars and marvel at the sonic fiction being created by the masses of our sensor-augmented bodies. We sway as lines back and forth upon the dark curtains of this virtual realm. We are mistakes waiting to tell you a story.

I ask myself how the story of a box has changed my identity on the stage and how it is to play with a sophisticated 6-dimensional mirror of myself. How can I represent the complexity of the nonhuman to a human? And the complexity of a human to a nonhuman?

Getting lost in the space of each other becomes the game of representation, and there is no better way to describe this than through actions rather than words. So welcome to this black box. It is a pleasure having you here.

- Narration from black box fading