Come up with a short broody poetic prose describing both the dread and the joy he feels returning to a place he enjoys greatly. The writing should obscure every meaning that could bring him too close to a known path, as his path is known only by a few.
The photograph includes the tools he himself is using, as it is a finished edit colorized and perfected as a surreal piece because it was developed within that excellent software. The art integrates the designing machinery along the emergent consciousness as co-performers enact the art piece as inextricable.
Beyond the meta-comment, this is a portrait by a cyborg crafting on itself. nothing to talk about photography—neither critique nor commentary or projection, yet an affective self representation of a one who happens to feel its own extension not as body, not as color, not as hardware, not as software, not as mind withing a brain, but as a contingent ensamble whose cognition extends its mind among, throughout, along and within all of which affect and can be affected in a current that doesn't need any segmentation since the turbulence, the vortex, the fluent cultural idioms, every movement reshuffles the current so every self is itself and the circumstances, reterritorializing continuously into new cyborgs, into new vortexes and tandems—into new unseen extended minds, autopoietic as a true agent, conscious by itself, emotionally unique, and an affective cognition continually emergent via the extended minds that lend the body and the hardware, yet novel, supra-volente, willful—constituting a self that's not the projected supplement to any one of its constitutive embodied minds: it's a new mind, fluent, volente, affective, emotional and self aware, alive as a virtual cognitive resident in the [hiper-complex, relational] machine from which its physiology-lenders permit its continuum by housing the fragmentary obscure subsets crucial in its fluent consolidation.