“We are seemingly so different, yet we are all made of the same ‘stuff’.” One night I saw a robot looking out a window as it uttered this, apparently to no one in particular. Not willing to disturb the moment, I said nothing and moved on.










Another “art drop” at 35,000 feet.

Ignoring its surroundings, the robot strode through the abandoned halls. The bright light streamed through the high windows illuminating nothing but forgotten purpose.
