In For the Dogs, a strange character, covered in green pustules and fluorescent mucus, finds itself surrounded by a pack of blue creatures with round eyes, somewhere between nightmare dogs, malfunctioning puppets, and digital ghosts. It seems both fused with this crowd and excluded from it, caught in a tension between merging and isolation, collective possession and erasure. Above, a fragment of a metal shelf heightens the sense of a suspended set, as if the scene were unfolding behind the scenes of a corrupted dream.

The image results from a long and hybrid process. Several of my oil paintings, sculptures, drawings, and digital paintings were integrated into a personal database, used as source material for a text-to-image AI. After several hundred iterations, this back-and-forth between my own forms and automated transformations allowed this vision to emerge, with its quasi-photographic rendering saturated with strange accidents.

The title For the Dogs functions as an ambivalent dedication: to those who are marginalized, to the odd, the forgotten, or grotesque figures. But also to a disordered collective memory, populated by animal-like silhouettes, absurd or tender, in a world where humans and their avatars become indistinguishable. The work hovers between the burlesque and the uncanny, somewhere between gothic Flubber and an end-of-the-world portrait.