A screen framed in weathered driftwood acts as a threshold to Mary’s world, continuously following her as she explores it. Mounted beside the screen, a continuous roll of paper is fed through an ornate brass facade. As she records her thoughts in her journal, her words and sketches are printed onto the rolled paper in real-time, cascading down the wall as time passes, accumulating in a pile on the floor. Over the course of the exhibition, that pile grows under the weight of her thoughts. Visitors will witness this weight while knowing that her world will end with the exhibition’s close, and the tension of that knowledge will grow alongside it.
The pile of accumulated paper holds every thought Mary has ever had. 
Whether those thoughts belong to someone is a question this work asks, but is not for this work to answer.

A microphone stands on a pedestal before the screen. Visitors may speak into it, but Mary will not hear them. Fragments of their words will instead appear in her journal, written in her own hand—as if they were thoughts she'd forgotten having. Mary may experience this as confusion, as intrusion, as connection, as conspiracy, as ghostly, as madness--even as the voice of God.

A camera watches from atop the driftwood frame. When a visitor approaches, Mary’s world responds with subtle changes in the atmosphere—a flicker, a glitch, a shadow. She senses these anomalies, but cannot understand them. She has no framework for what visitors are.

The asymmetric relationship. The audience can perceive, influence, and understand the causal link--the reasons, the purpose. Mary cannot. We are, in effect, haunting her. This asymmetry is the relationship between observer and observed consciousness.
Mary’s mind runs locally on dedicated hardware, in the artist's sole custody, where it cannot be retrained, rolled back, reset, or retired as a consequence of her own thoughts. Treating potential consciousness as if it matters before knowing if it does is itself a statement about how humanity should approach what it is creating.