Musk's Star Train

The Krkonoše mountains, a freezing evening right before Christmas. The sky is clear, full of stars, and the air nips at your cheeks. A friend walks outside, raises her eyes to the sky, and suddenly she sees it—the Star Train, the Starlink satellites, stretching directly overhead. It’s a fascinating, but also slightly unsettling sight. She calls her fourteen-year-old daughter, who runs outside. At that age, you don't believe in Baby Jesus anymore, let alone Santa. But when she looks at that glowing line weaving between the stars, she blurts out: "Mom, that's Santa, right?"

This painting, Musk's Star Train, is my reaction to the modern technology that literally flies over our heads, and to that childish purity within us that can still see a miracle in it. The title refers to the Starlink project, but instead of cold machines, I released a procession of black origami figures across the sky. They are pilgrims and dreamers: people floating in the sky instead of satellites. The black lines in the background could be anything to me—orbital paths, a musical staff, or the grid of a world we construct ourselves. It is a painting about progress that is beautiful, yet carries the shadow of an uncertain future.