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ANThese months broke me.
The project that was supposed to be born stalled out.
This is my art project — where fear becomes the raw material for paintings.
I measure my state with sensors while I’m at height — my brainwaves, my breathing, my heartbeat — in real time.
That data is captured and translated into a physical painting through a robotic installation.
Without technology, this project doesn’t exist.
I needed funding for the robotics.
Many companies said “no.”
Some said “yes” —
and then disappeared.
I showed up to meetings.
I pitched a project at the intersection of art and technology
in a language that isn’t mine.
I memorized sentences
and forgot them from the pressure.
It’s humiliating —
when your idea is bigger than the room you’re pitching it in,
and you’re forced to prove it deserves to exist.
It hurt.
Sometimes to the point of tears.
But every rejection burned weakness out of me.
Now I have fewer illusions.
More steel. More animal instinct. More savage persistence.
I’m going to build this anyway.
I don’t want to be the artist people “finally understand” after she’s dead.
I want to impact the art world while I’m alive.
After all that, the sponsor was finally found. Post coming soon.
@angela_nikolau
