For me, “art must live fully on-chain” means permanence, resilience, and truth. Just as the Renaissance sought eternal ideals through marble and fresco, Each of these works are fully minted on the Ethereum blockchain (i.e., the art resides on-chain and doesn't point to an external dependency). Renaissance.exe reimagines that search for permanence. The blockchain becomes my chapel ceiling, a place where memory, myth, and digital survival coexist.

I don’t aim to “update” them; I fracture them, collide them with symbols from speculation, technology, and contemporary anxiety. The choice of what to replace—whether a saint’s hand, an animal, or a background—comes from an intuitive pull: what fractures the narrative most, what exposes the fragility behind the aura. My guide is tension: the place where beauty begins to crack.

That tension is everything. The bull that replaces the ermine is at once sacred and speculative, as much a reliquary as a market ticker. This may be controversial but for me, spirituality and capitalism are not opposites, they are mirrors. Both demand faith, both create rituals, both seduce with promise. My work lives inside that belief.

When I “recoded” religion into digital languages, it wasn’t mockery, it was revelation. Is it critical? Yes. Visionary? Hopefully. But above all, it is necessary. Digital networks already carry their own dogmas, saints, and prophets. I see art as a way to make this visible: to reveal how easily technology takes on the weight of cult, how servers become cathedrals.

Power today is no longer a crown but a current, shifting, concealed, and encoded in the systems we move through. In the art world, it drifts away from the old gatekeepers and into decentralized networks, where artists can inscribe their voices permanently on-chain and communities decide what resonates. Beyond art, it hides in algorithms, contracts, and invisible architectures that quietly shape reality, proving that the most powerful forces are often unseen. My vision of power is not about domination but authorship, the ability to write into the record, to bend systems toward new meanings, and to remain untethered from narratives imposed by others.

The oscillation between brutality and balance reflects me as much as it reflects the world. I work in instability; I live in glitches. Yet, I also search for balance, moments where duality coexists rather than destroys. Dual Devotion is as much my self-portrait as any decapitation: the constant dance between chaos and form.

Being self-taught means no one set the rules for me, so I had to invent my own. That independence is a gift: it has allowed me to avoid fashions, resist certain styles, and speak with a voice that is fractured, raw, and unmistakably mine. The crypto art movement gave me a context, but I was never interested in chasing the “meta.” My language comes from outside the academy, but is influenced by the world around me. I think the challenge in this space is often artists fall in to the trap to make art they think people want versus what they want to make; this collection reflects my freedom to express myself.

Compression artifacts and glitches are not flaws but truths, the digital equivalent of cracks in marble or weathering in frescoes, signs that every system carries its own mortality. Where the Renaissance sought harmony, proportion, and divine perfection, my work brings its reflection through the fractured lens of the network age: the ideal meeting the error. By letting glitches and compression shape the image, I stage a dialogue where Renaissance form is recompiled and refracted, not as nostalgia but as proof that beauty persists even when systems fail. It is precisely in this tension, between formal perfection and digital fragility, that a new kind of authenticity emerges.

Four Origins is my attempt to widen the myth of creation. We are no longer only human: we are skeletal, machinic, alien. What fascinates me most about “origin” is that it’s always rewritten. Digital art itself is an act of genesis, it codes new forms of life into permanence. Each minting of art feels like a birth, an origin that belongs not to me, but to the chain.

I consider the Renaissance.exe as the first breach. The next chapter will likely move deeper into recursion: memory fracturing into protocol, relics dissolving into code, sacred images mutating into machine vision. If Chapter I is dialogue, Chapter II will be contagion. My art journey is to explore how art survives in digital catacombs, how memory itself becomes executable, refracted, and eternal.