saraieva

Netherlands

Where do you locate yourself in relation to the systems you work with?

I am both inside the system and watching it. I use these technologies and depend on them, like everyone else. At the same time, I try to step back and look at how they shape behavior, choices, and daily life. I am not outside or above the system. I am part of it, but I use my work to question how much control we give to it and how much of ourselves we adjust to fit it.

Where are you heading, and what is pulling you there?

I am moving toward work that is more focused on how technology quietly changes what it means to be human. What pulls me there is curiosity and a bit of discomfort. I notice how systems, interfaces, and tools slowly shape our habits, emotions, and sense of self. That tension makes me want to keep exploring it through art, research, discussions.

How would you describe the space your practice is currently unfolding in?

My practice is unfolding in the space between people and the systems they live with. It sits between the human body and digital environments, between emotions and interfaces, between care and control. I work in a place where everyday technology, habits, and fears about the future mix with personal experience. It is a space that feels familiar but slightly off — where normal life and artificial systems are already deeply connected.

Artist Statement

I work with AI not because I believe it’s the future, but because it reveals the present. To me, AI isn’t a tool, a threat, or a trend. It’s a pressure point. A mirror. It shows what we’re willing to feel, what we’re afraid to trust, and what we still pretend to control. That’s where my work begins. I’m not here to make AI seem human. I’m here to explore how human we become when faced with something that isn’t. My practice is rooted in perception, tension, and emotional contradiction. I research how people respond to artificial images, not to label or separate them, but to expose the moments when categories collapse. When belief disrupts experience. When we feel something real from something “not real”, and then doubt ourselves for it. That doubt is my material. I don’t aim to produce answers. I don’t aim to “fix” AI art. I aim to open a space where perception becomes strange again. Where looking requires thinking. Where meaning isn’t handed to you by origin or label, but arrives through discomfort, slowness, or emotional dissonance. That’s what’s true for me right now: I work at the edge between image and assumption. I use AI not only to generate, but to interrupt.

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saraieva

Netherlands