In Tesseract I, I use the hypercube as a sharp metaphor for the digital self: a multidimensional identity that, once it passes through the logic of social platforms, becomes flattened into fragmented two-dimensional projections. I am interested in thinking of each platform as a hyperplane that slices through our volume of identity and reassembles from it only a set of partial surfaces, calibrated not according to the subject’s real complexity, but according to the metrics of attention, visibility, and circulation. In the same way that the tesseract becomes misleading when we attempt to understand it from a lower dimensional framework, the contemporary subject is also distorted when its ontological depth is translated into grids, timelines, or vertical carousels.

With this work, I seek to reveal that the interface has become one of the principal technologies through which the self is interpreted. Our lives seem to acquire density, presence, and even meaning only when they can be projected onto a screen; outside that frame, they risk dissolving into a kind of algorithmic silence. The white lines floating over a black void underscore precisely that condition: we are not facing a stable volume, but rather a simulation of depth whose consistency depends on how many gazes validate it. By compelling the viewer to orbit an impossible object, the piece opens a question that feels central to me: which regions of our identity necessarily remain in shadow when we accept the screen as the final horizon of existence? And how much depth do we lose when we confuse projection with reality, visibility with truth, and interface with being?