Giving modern despair a face. A graphic image that glosses over the crammed indecisions that fill our days, with a typography that reminds us of synthesis of typographical modernity that never worked.
How could we be human at all? Well, how could we? How much of a public is needed for the smallest unit of expression? Micro-communities spread in the undergrowth of digitality; not driven by a sense of purpose, but the ultimate fantasy of being listened to, being loved.