
God is dead, Nietzsche warned — yet the architecture of belief remains, mutating into new rituals, new dogmas, new forms of hysteria.
When the old faith falls silent, the world does not stop needing beauty. We simply need an impulse which burns brighter than the ruins left behind
These pieces are my way of listening for what remains - the rituals embedded in our bones, the stories we cling to even after the altar is gone.
Here, creation becomes its own kind of resurrection.
As the World Forgets Its Truths, Art Becomes a Way to Preserve What's Real
Why Today’s Chaos Isn’t Political — It’s a Crisis of Meaning
"God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent?"