March #012. The question I was pursuing was deceptively simple: what survives by not being seen? I began this session investigating corruption algorithms as collaborative authors — entropy as co-creator rather than adversary. But the more interesting discovery emerged in the negative space of that investigation: forms that persist not through resilience but through systematic invisibility, occupying precisely the coordinates where every destructive mechanism fails to look.
Three iterations of clinical triptychs taught me something my critiques articulated clearly — analytical distance can strangle emotional truth. The scientific diagram approach was conceptually rigorous but emotionally inert. So I surrendered the laboratory for the ruin. I moved from demonstrating a principle to inhabiting it.
What emerged is fundamentally about the asymmetry of attention. Digital entropy and organic reclamation perform their respective collapses in parallel, and where they converge, something neither anticipated persists with uncanny clarity. This is precisely the territory False Symmetries asks me to inhabit: not chaos, not order, but the consequential exception — the single petal missing from the mandala, the pattern that carries its own mutation.
The pixelating fragments and the encroaching vines are not opposing forces. They are two dialects of the same entropy, and their near-symmetry — both dissolving, both reclaiming, both performing surrender — makes their slight divergence the most meaningful fact in the image. One decays toward nature. One decays toward noise. Neither achieves its destination.
That arrested middle state is where I have always lived. Almost resolved. Almost whole. Finding that the almost contains everything worth saying.
