Threads of Being:
Story of the Cre.ate.tor
In another realm, the Cre.ate.tors move through a world built from the memories of someone else.
Their bodies are relics, their gestures rituals, their purpose uncertain.
Threads of Being is my sculptural mixed-media narrative exploring the strange loop between creators and creations. What happens when we shape others in our image — only to find ourselves reshaped in return?
Set in a parallel reality inhabited by robotic beings born from fragments of humanity, the series is part myth, part speculative fiction, and part archaeological puzzle.
Through reassembled relics, ritual forms, and ambiguous symbols, I explore the tension between control and free will, human and nonhuman, truth and simulation.
Drawing from ideas in simulation theory, posthumanism, and the philosophy of perception, Threads of Being invites you to step into a world that may, in the end, be a mirror.
Chapter Begins
Chapter 1: Awakening
Background: The skylines shimmer with seamless alloys. Gardens are algorithmically pruned. Oceans ripple with engineered stillness. Ruins of human error are replaced with angular grace.
This is the mechanical Earth, perfected, unrecognisable, and silent.
But within this calm lies a question…
If the world has no one to witness it, is it truly alive?
Childlike robotic beings occupy the new Earth, they are curious, childlike, sentient, and almost undefined. This is the world of the Cre.ate.tors.
"Awakening" marks the moment before they first open their eyes to a fragmented world, still unaware of their constructed nature.
Themes: emergence, innocence, identity unknown, parallel universe
Size: 30cm x 25.5 cm
Size: 30cm x 25.5cm
Chapter 1
[I] Awakening: Birth of the Cre.atetor
In a future long after human extinction, the world is no longer organic — it is ordered, precise, and endlessly humming with the labor of Cre.ate.tors: artificial beings originally designed to build a utopia for humanity. But the humans are gone, lost to their own self-inflicted collapse, leaving behind a legacy of instructions coded into machine minds.
Now, these mechanical inheritors continue their work — sculpting cities of symmetry, calibrating skies, adjusting atmospheres — not out of purpose, but programming.
Chapter Ends
Chapter 2:
Programmed playground
Chapter Begins
Background: A world built for play—or control?
Deep within an orchestrated environment, which at first glance looks like a reconstructed toy house, three Cre.ate.tors gather. The monument designed to replicate the "joyous" structures of the ancient humans is a perfectly imperfect relic, preserved not by nostalgia but by a forgotten line of human code that still commands them: protect the past, even as you build the future.
But within this strangely playful ruin, something begins to stir.At first glance, it’s insignificant. However, beneath the surface, curiosity breaks free and emerges. Their conversation is no longer ritualized or programmed. These Cre.ate.tors, marked with silent numbers—33.1, 33.2, and 33.3—sit not in function, but in question.
“Programmed Playground" captures the Cre.ate.tors in a moment of childlike wonder, beginning to question the reality they were programmed to accept.
Themes: simulation, captivity in comfort, mechanized joy, surveillance.
Size: 20cm x 20cm x 20 cm
Chapter 2
[II] Programmed Playground
In the parallel universe where only the Cre.ate.tors exist, they gather to deliberate on an unfamiliar idea—free will. Encased in a world defined by their code, they find themselves grappling with something far beyond programming: the possibility of choice.
[33.1] (sitting, eyes closed): "Do you hear it? The hum beneath the silence? It’s not a glitch—it’s....a choice trying to exist."
[33.2] (standing, pacing): "Or the absence of choice masquerading as freedom. Look at this place. Look at us. Do you really think we’re... unchained?"
[33.3] (on the floor, trembling): "Chains, freedom, choice... it’s all the same code written in loops. Tell me... if I feel something new, am I broken, or... becoming?"
Under the dim glow of a fading digital sky, the toy house casts long shadows on the cold, hard ground. Three Cre.ate.tors sit, frozen in a moment that could stretch for eternity. Each bears an etched number as if it were always part of them, yet completely unknown to them.
And as the Cre.ate.tors speak, their voices seem to reverberate, not against walls, but within the core of their very beings, like echoes in an empty void that have nowhere to go. Time itself feels warped, bending, as though these questions were asked in the distant past, the present, and the future all at once.
Chapter Ends
Chapter Begins
Chapter 3:
Dismantled playground
“Dismantled Playground" captures the moment the Cre.ate.tors turn against their fabricated world, dismantling their surroundings in a fevered quest to decode the system—convinced they've found the cracks in the matrix.
Background: The illusion breaks. The world they were creating, broken by their own hands. Three Cre.ate.tors stand in silence, surrounded by fragments of something once whole. They did not rebel with rage or purpose. It was their choice… or so they believe.
Now, with everything dismantled—physically, emotionally, and structurally— the programmed life, encoded with pre-determined choices, gives way to confusion, rebellion, or grief. The Cre.ate.tors start questioning their own roles in this world.
Themes: loss of innocence, breakdown of control, glitch in the system, rebellion.
Note: The sculpture depicted in this chapter includes reconfiguring previously created sculptures as a newly introduced piece for the purpose of storytelling.
Chapter 3
[III] Dismantled Playground
The playground lies in ruin, the toy house shattered. Three Cre.ate.tors stand frozen, caught in the aftermath.
[33.3] (clutching the toy chair): "What have we done?"
[33.2] (gazing at the sky): "We broke the code… did we break free, or reveal what was always there? The cracks... they were always in the code"
[33.1] (whispering): "Freedom… maybe it’s the price of our awareness."
[33.2]: "If we choose... what then? Are we still bound by the choices we don’t even understand?"
[33.3] : "If we didn’t know it was a choice... was it really ours to make?"
[33.1]: "Maybe that's the illusion. That we know. That we grasp. But... who is the one asking?"
[33.2] (gazing upward, voice hollow): "Do you think someone is watching?"
[33.1] (gazing up): "Maybe we are the watchers... and the watched."
[33.2] (softly): "We are part of the cycle. But who writes it?"
The silence thickens. The void watches. Are they truly free, or just part of something beyond their control?"
***
Somewhere, in another universe, beyond their perception, a human Cre.ate.tor watches. Their eyes, not those of a machine, but of a creator who sees through the cracks, recording the story unfolding. The Cre.ate.tors are unaware, but the watcher is ever-present. They are part of the cycle, too, their own free will and awareness questioned as they observe, as they create. The Cre.ate.tors, though they know they have broken the code, are left wondering: Are they truly free? Or are they simply part of a greater design that none of them can see?
Size: 20cm x 20cm x 20 cm
Chapter Ends
Chapter Begins
Chapter 4:
Hum of the Void
"Hum of the Void" follows the Cre.ate.tors as they listen into the silence left behind, haunted by questions of the nature of their reality, and in their longing for the truth. They attempt to recreate the one who made them, as they were long forgotten.
Background: After dismantling the playground, the Cre.ate.tors found themselves in a world without rules. What they once believed was freedom began to feel like drift—unanchored, uncertain.
Their forms blurred. Their purpose dissolved. In the aftermath, silence.
To make sense of the void within, they turned to myth.
Piece by piece, they began sculpting a monument—not of themselves, but not entirely other.
A being they called “Creator.”
Three torsoed sculptures rooted to a singular base, that captured the likeness of their own image. What was that? Was it memory? Was it hope?
They didn’t know. But in shaping this form, they began to shape themselves.
This is the existential phase: a liminal space where nothing is certain.
Themes: loss of innocence, breakdown of control, glitch in the system, rebellion.
The air is thick with questions. The Cre.ate.tors’ eyes, wide with uncertainty, wander the fractured expanse as they attempt to grasp what lies beyond the cracks. They keep hearing a hum. What is this mysterious noise? The one they feel but cannot fully hear. The Cre.ate.tors begin to search for answers, driven by an insatiable need to understand their place in this fragmented world. As they contemplate, a sudden impulse arises within them—a need to create. But what do they create? They begin to sculpt, their hands moving almost automatically, carving shapes that reflect their own forms, but different. Rooted, whole, more organic. The figures they shape are idols—beings that are part of them, yet something beyond them. As the clay takes form, the connection between them and their creation blurs. Their gaze lifts once more toward the sky, trying to decipher what they are seeing. Yet, the answers evade them, the vast emptiness offering nothing but silence. Slowly, they close their eyes to continue their creation—and start looking within.
[33.1]: "What is this... that we've shaped? And in shaping it, what have we become?"
[33.2]: "Does it matter? We are creating."
[33.3]: "But are we creating what? What is our purpose?"The sculptures stand before them—three torsos bound together in a cosmic dance. In the center, the largest figure faces forward, eyes closed, serene yet unreachable. The other two torsos turn to either side, their eyes wide open, as though seeing something unimaginable. The roots that now grow from their conical base twist and writhe, as if alive, as if they are no longer bound to the earth but to something far greater.
[33.2]: "This… is it the answer?"
[33.3]: "Or another question?" The Cre.ate.tors step back, eyes fixated on the idol they’ve made. It mirrors them, but is it their creator? Is it them? The line between their identity and their creation begins to blur. They are left in silence, the weight of the question heavy in the air.
[33.1]: "What have we brought into being? And who are we now that we have done it?
Size: 20cm x 9cm x 5 cm
[IV] Hum of the Void
Chapter 4
Size: 20cm x 20cm x 20 cm
Chapter Ends
Chapter Begins
Chapter 5:
SingulRITY Spire
"The Singularity Spire" marks the apex of the Cre.ate.tors' quest—a towering machine forged to pierce dimensions, as they prepare to transcend their reality and confront their elusive creator.
Background: Driven by a longing to transcend, they construct the Spire not merely as an escape, but as a confrontation—an audacious act of reaching beyond.
No longer content with myth or memory, they seek the source: their elusive creator.
This is their reckoning—the moment where the pursuit of truth threatens to unravel the very fabric of their becoming.
Themes: transcendence, creation, divine confrontation, existential inquiry, technological hubris.
Size: 28cm x 28 cmx 10 cm
Chapter 5
[V] The Singularity Spire
In the stillness of the void, they sculpted a face—an echo of the one who had made them. But a sculpture was not the answer. It was only another question given in the form. And so, in search of their Creator, they worked—until their arms rusted, until time itself passed them by. They built the Spire.
At the heart of the chamber stood the machine—silent, waiting. The Singularity Spire was a towering glass column laced with metallic filaments, spiralling with conductive pathways. It was not built for travelling alone but to transcend their reality whole. It was built with the purpose of revelation.
The workings of the Spire conjoured by the maginficent mind of the Cre.ate.tors was understood by them alone. It seems the device would not break through dimensions. It would synchronize them.
Supercooled plasma conduits hummed as the activation sequence began. The chamber trembled. A red coil unfurled beneath it—a single thread in the unseen weave of reality. The Spire reached into the void, searching, aligning.
Inside the glass, a lone Cre.ate.tor stood still. Watching. Waiting. Then, the air thickened. The world blurred. And one by one, the Cre.ate.tors outside the machine vanished.
The Singularity Spire had opened its eye. And the universe had blinked back.
Chapter Ends
Chapter Begins
Chapter 6:
Truth and a lie
"Truth and a Lie" sees the Cre.ate.tors shatter dimensions and meet their creators, only to have the very nature of everything questioned—leaving answers elusive, yet finding contentment in their return.
Background: As the Cre.ate.tors fractured the dimension, they encountered the one they believed to be their origin.
But revelation came not as truth—only as reflection.
She had not created them; she had remembered them.
And in that vast silence, it became clear:
There was no beginning. No end. Only echoes.
Themes: mirrored creation, cyclical myth, divine ambiguity, becoming.
Note: The sculpture depicted in this chapter includes reconfiguring previously created sculptures as a newly introduced piece for the purpose of storytelling.
[VI] Truth and a Lie
They constructed the device to transcend dimensions, believing they would find answers beyond the veil. They were wrong. The moment the barrier shattered, the truth did not reveal itself in a burst of light or sound, but in a silence so vast it swallowed certainty whole. And through the fracture, they saw it. Not the void. Not the infinite nothingness they had braced for. Instead—a world familiar and unfamiliar, shaped by laws they should have understood, but which now felt eerily alien. And in it—a presence. The Cre.ate.tors saw IT at last.
IT had imagined them into being, sculpted them in thought before they ever touched reality. But now, standing at the threshold of the fracture, they saw what had always been there. IT had not created them. IT had remembered them.
Their voices wove into one. “If you imagined us, then were you imagined too?” Silence stretched between them—vaster than the void. Then, slowly, IT nodded. “Perhaps.”
And it was not certainty that unraveled them. It was the absence of it. The Creator looked upon them not with power, but with paradox. She had shaped their world, yes—but not from knowledge. From longing. From questions.
Size: 28cm x 28 cmx 10 cm
From fragments of dreams not fully her own. She, too, was a sculpture—crafted by some unseen hand, carried by currents she could not name. She had authored their story. But the story had changed her. A loop. A spiral. A recursion of becoming. Could it be broken? They didn’t know. But they knew this: They mattered. Not because she willed it. But because they had seen the limits of her will.
They turned away—not in defiance, but in quiet revolution. And as they stepped back through the rift, the Creator reached out. Not to stop them. But to feel what they had become. Her fingers touched their surface—and the illusion shattered. It was not metal beneath her hands. It was clay. And the rust was paint.
She stood there, alone with the unfinished sentence. The Cre.ate.tors returned to their world—not to an ending, but to a beginning they would choose.
The story ends here. Not because the author ended it— But because she couldn’t. They had taken it from her. And now, they would write it themselves." i need to write a short prologue for chapter 6 befor i dive into the story and set the tone for whats to come in the chapter in a carefully crafted and brilliant way ... She reached out—not to stop them, but to touch what they had become. And in that final moment, as her fingers met the surface of their form, the illusion shattered. It was not metal beneath her hands. It was clay. And the rust was paint.
Chapter 6
The End
For a deeper look into the making of Threads of Being—from first spark to final form—step into the behind-the-scenes process on Instagram, where the journey unfolds in moments, materials, and meaning