Anatomically Modern Human: Patch Notes

A glitch-distorted self-portrait of a human figure, shown from head to upper thighs, facing forward. The body is rendered in layered horizontal smears and digital interference, with turquoise, red, and flesh tones sliding out of alignment, as if the image is buffering or tearing. Facial features are partially visible but unstable, blurred and fragmented by motion-like streaks. Over the left side of the body, a column of small yellow text overlays the image, formatted like software patch notes with headings and brackets, referencing stages of life, emotions, medication, loneliness, love, and mortality. The background is white, and the overall effect suggests a body caught between presence and erasure, combining digital glitch aesthetics with intimate, autobiographical text.

 

Anatomically Modern Human: Patch Notes
2026
Pigment print on Hahnemühle cotton rag, framed
68 x 52 cm
Edition of 6 + 2 AP

Anatomically Modern Human: Patch Notes is a self-portrait constructed from layered photographs of my body, repeatedly captured and recomposed until the figure becomes unstable, fragmented, and partially erased. Its glitch-like instability emerges from an accumulation of moments—small shifts in posture, breath, and time.

The accompanying poem is written as a series of patch notes, using the language of software updates, pop-ups, and system errors to move through a human life: birth, loneliness, love, medication, mortality. Together, the image and text treat identity as something continually revised—adjusted, interrupted, and sometimes held together with workarounds.

Rather than offering a resolved likeness, the work lingers with the strangeness of inhabiting a body at all—biologically modern, emotionally unfinished, and briefly illuminated. This is a portrait of persistence more than certainty: of being here, imperfectly, while the light passes over us and moves on.