The Art of the Glitch
Why My 2026 Is Written in Stone (And Why It’s Okay That It’s Broken) If you look closely at the image above—really closely—you’ll see it. It’s there in the text carved into the stone wall. A line repeats itself. "In silence. You cross boundaries, in silence. You cross boundaries..." Technically, it’s a mistake. It’s a glitch in the digital matrix, a hiccup in the software that created the image. In a previous life, the version of me that existed five or six years ago would have seen that error and frantically tried to fix it. I would have scrubbed it, photoshopped it, or discarded the image entirely because it wasn't "perfect." I would have worried that a flaw in the presentation meant a flaw in the man presenting it. But I’m leaving it there. I am letting it stand. Because if there is one thing I have learned in my fifty-two years on this planet—and specifically in the hellscape of the last six years—it is that life does not allo...