failed deliverance

inspiration

while working at my desk job, I began to be really intrigued by people that had physical mobility in the age of the 9 to 5 — specifically delivery people, carrying parcels from trucks to offices, and moving around throughout the day.

I had a few meaningful conversations with my office's UPS delivery man, and started to feel the contradiction between our very different kinds of work.

After one particularly long, draining day, I walked past a delivery slip that read: “we're sorry we missed you.”

and the idea for this story was born.

performance log
october 19, 2024 — soho, new york

I performed failed deliverance to a group of four in SoHo, New York. Each person wore one earbud to watch a video I made while I read the story aloud—a small experiment in digital overstimulation and storytelling across senses.

after, I talked with my brilliant friend Daniel about art, and the singularity.

I wore a blue shirt I borrowed from Sean.

the blue shirt (failed deliverance performance)
the blue shirt — click to open

I accidentally deleted the video. but before, I sent it to my friend + mentor martin and he said:

“you’ve got it, kid.”

performance log
september 10, 2025 — london, uk
pilot magazine · no screens digital detox

on september 10th, 2025 I read it again at a no screens digital detox event hosted by Pilot Magazine.

I texted my friend Dagny, the founder, to see if I should print it out or read it off of my laptop and she pointed out the somatic effect of screens on gathering.

I wandered around London, looking for a blue shirt. In the second thrift store, I found one for 7 pounds, and bought it from a nice older man named David who briefly tried to set me up with his son.

I spent the entire day re-writing the story by hand, to crawl back into it.

It took a long time and I took an uber, eating an apple and finishing the story at the same time.

I was a little bit nervous, as this crowd was bigger, but I was honest about my nervousness and asked everyone to close their eyes so they could imagine harder.

They did and I told the story.

Afterwards, Oscar told me that he couldn't close his eyes, but he could "look without blinking," and a few people came up to me afterwards.