PERSON OF INTEREST

What do these moments have in common?

// Sulawesi Cave Art (51,200+ years ago)

Hands press pigment to stone — wild pigs, three figures, the ghosts of a hunt. The land is ruled by tooth and claw, but stories around the fire hold humans through the night. And isn’t that the real survival?

// Cat Paw Print on Ancient Roman Tile (c. 100 AD)

A cat — unbothered, indifferent — pads across wet clay, leaving behind a mark it never meant to make. A fleeting moment pressed into permanence.

// Maeshowe Runes (12th Century)

Vikings carve their names into an ancient tomb, scratching their youth into the walls:
“Haermund Hardaxe was here.”
“These runes were carved by the man most skilled in runes in the western ocean.”
“Ingigerth is the most beautiful of all women.”

A love letter, a battle cry, a desperate need to be remembered.

// Onfim Doodles (13th Century)

Onfim, a Viking child — six, maybe seven — doodles on birch bark. The fingers he draws are uneven. The knights, the arrows, the monsters — clumsy but fierce. He sketches himself as a fantastic beast, sharp-toothed, untamed. He leaves a note for his friend Danilo — not knowing that hundreds of years later, we will find both of them here.

// Gutenberg Press (c. 1440)

Johannes Gutenberg pulls ink across a page, and the world cracks open. Words are no longer bound to whispers and memory. Books, pamphlets, prayers, love letters — printed, passed, immortalized. RIP, you would have loved Precious Hearts Romance.

// The Voyager Golden Record (1977)

A golden record drifts through space, waiting to be found. It carries the sounds of Earth — “El Cascabel” by Lorenzo Barcelata and the Mariachi México, greetings in 55 languages, a baby’s cry, laughter — because someone, somewhere, thought that aliens should know what being human feels like.

// The Wind Phone (2011)

A white telephone booth overlooks the ocean. A rotary phone, disconnected, waits for a receiver that will never pick up.

Japanese garden designer Itaru Sasaki built it for his cousin who died of cancer. After the 2011 tsunami, the grieving come in waves, pressing their grief into the receiver, whispering love to a line that leads only to the wind.

// Person of Interest (2025)

Somewhere between the internet and the archives of human memory, Person of Interest squeezes itself in between the pixels. A ghost of the early web, when everything was free, created just to exist.

A blog of interviews and reflections, a ritual of remembering.

To capture people as they are, in this moment, before time takes us somewhere else.

Person of Interest is the cave wall.
The wind on the other side of the rotary phone.
The wet tile beneath a wandering cat’s paw.
The birch bark in a child’s hands.

More than body of work. It’s proof of life.

Enjoy.