Feels Like Tomorrow

A memory changes depending on how you feel when you remember it. Feels Like Tomorrow is an immersive installation built around that instability, a physical object turned into a digital memory, then read back to a visitor differently depending on where they're standing.

The Garden of Memories

The physical centrepiece is a cluster of black origami flowers. Some were folded from written instructions, others from memory alone, once the instructions had been set aside. The two methods produce visibly different results: the memory-folded flowers are looser, less symmetrical, closer to an impression of the form than a reproduction of it. That gap between the instructed and the remembered is the whole piece in miniature.

Photogrammetry

The flower cluster was scanned with Kiri Engine and cleaned up in Blender, turning the physical object into its digital memory: a mesh that keeps the object's likeness but loses its material truth in the process, the same lossy translation a real memory makes.

A poem about time, perspective and change

A set of questions without a linear story, written in two versions. The same lines shift their meaning against each other: "a moment of grey lines you never cross" against "a moment of grey lines you'll always cross", "to put your empty thoughts to bed" against "to put your rushing thoughts to bed". Neither version is the correct one.

Head-tracked

Built in TouchDesigner with MediaPipe handling real-time head tracking, the installation reads a visitor's position and uses it to decide which version of the poem they see, rendered over the 3D scan of the flowers as a glitched, red-on-black overlay. Your perspective determines which version you read, and you only ever get one.

The 3D scan sits behind the poem deliberately unlabelled. As a visitor you won't identify it directly, and that's the point: memories exist without becoming the whole story, but they still drive everything we feel about tomorrow.