(de).synchronized reduces pixel activity to pure color before projecting and refilming it, a process in which instability is amplified by the camera’s refusal to synchronize with the screen. The result is an image in perpetual dissonance — slipping, vibrating, never settling.
Alongside this visual disruption, the sound of my breath — muffled, distorted — threads a bodily presence through technological fracture, insisting on the persistence of the body amid mediated surfaces.
The work resists representation. Color ceases to illustrate; it pulses. The image does not resolve; it flickers. Presence emerges not through clarity but through distortion — lived in noise, instability, and the shifting interval between what is seen and what is sensed.