CLOUD is a signature. Not a logo, not a brand: a living system.
It grows, it spreads, it never stops.
You look and see whatever you want.
Each fragment follows a protocol: the edges are designed to connect with all the others. Each piece stands alone. Together, they form something with no fixed shape, because the collection never closes. You don't collect CLOUD. You own a fragment of it.
The series has no limit. The complete collection doesn't exist. That's the point. The work lives in its dispersion.
CLOUD also appears on other conceptual works. It doesn't sell separately there: it signs them, it inhabits them. Its presence is not announced. It's just there, by default, like a fingerprint. The only constant element in a practice that refuses constancy.
