Cem Hasimi is a London-based digital artist exploring the space between the physical and the virtual, where emotion meets code and movement becomes meaning. His work often follows a recurring figure, a quiet presence wandering through luminous, shifting environments, searching, observing, and becoming.
After years as an art director, he turned toward digital art to explore something more personal: the tension between control and surrender, progress and stillness, self and simulation. He is drawn to the unfinished, to motion as a form of truth, and to the quiet poetry of existing in a world that is constantly rendering itself anew.
His process combines AI, code, physical sculpture, and light installation with digital painting and frame-by-frame animation. Each medium becomes a layer of perception, blending the synthetic and the tangible to create spaces that feel both human and machine-made.
Hasimi has exhibited internationally at W1 Curates, Frameless London, and the British Art Fair at Saatchi Gallery, as well as in New York, Lisbon, Stockholm, and Miami.
For him, art is a way of staying in motion: of never fully arriving, but continuing to unfold, frame by frame, into whatever comes next.
In Never Arrive, Cem Hasimi explores the feeling of moving through worlds that never quite settle. His recurring figure walks through spaces that seem familiar yet constantly shift, as if reality keeps refreshing before it can become real. The light is too calm, the grass glows too evenly, and everything feels like a memory that a machine is still trying to remember.
He builds worlds that mirror how we exist now: always in motion, always becoming. For him, meaning doesn’t sit at the destination but moves quietly within the process. To arrive would mean the end of discovery, and he has never found beauty in endings.
The landscapes begin as digital paintings created with Midjourney, reshaped into motion and blended with frame-by-frame animation of his recurring characters. It is a collaboration between intuition and algorithm, a conversation between what he imagines and what the machine misremembers.
Each piece feels like a moment suspended between creation and collapse, where every step redraws the horizon. “I keep walking because motion feels honest. I never really arrive, and perhaps that is the point.”
