make sense of us [e]

performance, 2025

cycles of past encounters with digital co-performers merge as text documents, instructions, archives + scores to form a collision of the script + the non-script.

in blue are chat logs of conversations I had with a computer during my series of performances, make sense of things. some of what I said had not been transcribed by the computer — it had been redacted. through removal, its responses are given precedence in our archive of what happened between us. in red, are commands I wrote for a computer voice to give me during my performance, the stripes don’t wash off. these documents, or pages, resemble flags. we can move them + move through them. a script is a blueprint to be replicated and reenacted. a non-script offers potentiality for something else, but here it only reiterates ideologies — scripts — that are already in place. the computer is following its design. this moment we're experiencing is not a glitch, it is part of the programming.

on the floor is an automated vacuum cleaner — adorned with american flag pants I've worn when performing. as it erases matter on the floor, it becomes more dirty + battered — bumping into walls, getting entangled.

it cannot sustain itself.

we can take solace in knowing it won’t.

we have to go off-script if we want to get there sooner.