01/19/2026
Here is a creation made by our industrial machine. To me it is a piece of art. This work reads as a restrained yet emotionally charged abstract landscape, rooted in gesture and atmosphere rather than representation. Conceptually, the painting sits at an intersection of landscape and abstraction. It hints at environmental themes—growth, fragility, contamination, regeneration—without becoming illustrative. The aggressive green may signal vitality, but also toxicity, suggesting a world that is alive yet unsettled. It’s a quiet painting, but not a passive one—it hums with restrained energy and latent narrative.
What appears as a deliberate abstract landscape is, in fact, an unintended image produced by industrial equipment designed for efficiency, not expression. Crucially, there is no “soul” embedded in the act of making. No gesture meant to communicate, no narrative imposed by a conscious painter. And yet, paradoxically, the surface evokes landscape, growth, and atmosphere with uncanny clarity. The machine, indifferent and unknowing, produces imagery that echoes centuries of human attempts to depict nature.
As such, the painting operates as an accidental child of industry—an unintentional artwork born from the recycling of everyday human plastics. It collapses boundaries between waste and beauty, function and art, authorship and chance. The work asks an unsettling question: if meaning arises in the absence of intention, where does authorship truly reside— in the maker, the machine, or the viewer?
Thinking to hang it in the office for customers to see.
Don't you agree?
