Autopilot

Artwork Info

Digital artwork, archival pigment print on Hahnemüle art canvas smooth 370 gsm
50 x 50 cm. | 20 x 20 in. 
Framing included 
© 2026

Driving me through life. Life I don’t remember living.

Time passes. You made it through another day. Another week. Another month. Another year.

You did everything you were supposed to do. You fulfilled your duties and overcame your challenges. You were someone to someone. You were a functional gear in the great machine of the world. You've done so well.

Yet, one day, you might realize that you don’t remember having lived. Why is that, for we have been alive this entire time? Breathing, moving, doing everything that was required of us. We surely have been alive. And yet, for some reason, recalling days once lived is so very difficult. Why?

Autopilot is the reason. It's a system within us, tasked with keeping us alive and functional. And by keeping us functional, it keeps us meaningful.

This system, this code within us, is familiar and safe, almost nostalgic. It brings to mind the times when performing became a part of who we are. That is why we don't know how to live any other way.

Who would we be without Autopilot? Exploring that is so frightening. That's why, it's enough for us to simply keep going through our days. Smiling and being completely certain that this is living.

Look at my screens now. Look at my performance. Prime time is always on, and our favorite show is never canceled.

It's enough for us. To keep performing the program provided by Autopilot. It's enough. Until glitches appear.

We begin to break, fearing losing our meaningfulness. We fall apart, even though we did everything right. Why? Because we, living beings built into machines, cannot endure indefinitely without ever truly living.

What is truly living? Perhaps it means stopping, for a moment or for a longer time. Perhaps it means doing what our heart, beating under our machinery, truly yearns for. Life should feel as though our hearts truly exist. To make life feel worth living for.

Who would we be without Autopilot? Finding the answer to this is frightening, yet it must be found. Before our machinery, our beating heart deep under it, shuts down completely.