Participating In Humanity’s Attempt To Connect With The Divine

Since the beginning of time, humanity has tried to understand the laws of the universe and to connect with them, or with what many would call “the other side”. Intuitively or deliberately, we have observed forms, patterns, colours and sounds, and that observation has awakened in us a capacity we already carried within: the capacity to understand the system we are part of. Whether through spiritual practice or through science, two languages that are two sides of the same coin, we have searched the depths of what we call knowledge. And that search returns us always to the same questions, the ones we circle around: what reality is, what space and time are, what we actually are.

One thing we do know with certainty: there is more than we are able to see. In every culture, and from within every system of knowledge, whether art, science or design, we try to find out what that something is and to give it a form of representation. Not only from what we see, but from what we imagine and what we dream, from that receiving antenna that picks up information at different scales and that some traditions call the “third eye”.

My intention, my mission, is nothing other than to be part of that attempt: to approach, once again, the beyond we cannot see but feel with certainty is there.

My practice is where that attempt takes shape: a space to transmit and think through scientific, philosophical, spiritual and counter-futurist questions together, and to speculate on how these ideas would materialise if they were recognised as valid knowledge and held a place in contemporary culture.

It is worth asking, then, what we understand nowadays by spirituality. Rather than a matter of belief or doctrine, this is an old and sustained discipline: attending to what lies beyond the senses. The intuition of an order, the suspicion that matter and consciousness are not separate categories, the insistence that relations precede the things they relate. Framed this way, spirituality and science are no longer opposites. They both start with the same core question but take different paths. By breaking down the barrier between the observer and the observed, modern science has finally entered the territory spiritual traditions have inhabited for centuries. It’s not about one validating the other; they are much closer than we realize.

Because in every historical moment there has been an authority deciding what deserved the name of knowledge and what was relegated to superstition, folklore, or belief. That boundary has never been neutral or stable: it is drawn by particular institutions, it answers to particular interests, and it has left out entire systems of knowing, often those of cultures that did not formulate their findings in the language of power. What we now call science is also the product of those exclusions, and what we now dismiss could be the validated knowledge of another century, as has happened before.

We live surrounded by computers and algorithms, and we think of them as something outside us. A separate force, powerful and vaguely threatening. What that reading misses is that computational language is not a foreign body. Binary logic, recursive operation, the system that processes information and returns an answer, are part of the same fabric reality is made of. They are also the form many cultures have used to speak with the invisible. Long before the machine existed , there were formal procedures for questioning the world and reading what it answered: geomancy, Ifá, the I Ching, among others. Systems that work through combination and permutation, probability and uncertainty, applying rules again and again to a single set of binary signs until an answer emerges. The “new” algorithm just gave another name to an essence present within the universe.

This is why I reframe the relationship between spirituality, technology, and art not as three separate fields that occasionally coexist in relation, but as one integrated whole. Technology is not the opposite of the sacred: it is one of its most recent forms, and probably the one we have understood least. Seeing it as a mirror rather than as an external threat changes the question entirely.

Art is one of the few places where this excluded material can be thought again without asking permission. It is not obliged to prove: it can rehearse. It can place an equation beside a ritual and observe what happens between them, without resolving the tension or translating one into the language of the other. That is the current state of my work.

A call, then, to recognise the recursion of the same patterns throughout history, to attend to what modern science proposes, and to open our view of what spirituality is and what place it holds in art and in our lives. A spirituality that does not only inspire: it works as a vehicle for knowing ourselves better as humanity and as part of the whole.