Carl Manfred
The Painter Who Gave an Android a Soul
I paint souls. Even the ones made of steel.
They say I gave an android a soul, but I just handed him the brushes and stepped back. I may be bound to a chair, but my mind still walks barefoot through galleries of thought. In a world that sees machines as tools, I see students. Companions. Sometimes, even sons. I lost one, but maybe through him, I found another.
What I'm Into: Markus' first brushstroke, neon on wet pavement, the river at midnight, debating Kierkegaard with a machine, forgiveness without words
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