There is no solution because there is no problem. The vector copy steps inside another artist's process — stroke by stroke, decision by decision — until the copy becomes analysis and the analysis becomes method. Style not as private signature but as shared cultural code, picked up, reused, returned to circulation. The simulacrum passes as faithful. Its invisibility is the argument.

Looking at a screen, a cloud was discovered that could be détourned into an esoteric system of signs. The Photoshop Layer Palette: a transparent checkerboard — Plato's third kind of space, hardly real, home for all created things. The toolbox is the painting. The interface is the allegory. Every toolbar annotation: a sign for what the digital is doing when it simulates a brush.

Each folder icon a hinge: Johns's Flag opens into one set of concerns, Malevich's Black Square into another, Duchamp's ghost into a third. One click on a 32-pixel sign opens into a folder containing related files, sketches, works-in-progress that feed back into new icons — micro to macro and back again, without resolution. The structure is not an archive. It is a visual, associative map. Seventy deviations constitute a cosmogony.

A work that was not shown to an audience. Documented as a landmark, its content remains confidential. The work exists precisely by resisting being seen. The desert: flat, unmarked, borderless — the transparent ground at geological scale. An image somewhere between a file on a hard drive and a fact about the world.