Satsang means “being-together in truth.”

SATSANG is a public artwork that appears where the world gathers. I enter public space uninvited and unpermitted, set up two chairs beneath a white helium balloon, and wait. I do not solicit participation. Whoever chooses to sit across from me is invited into a simple relational liturgy: sharing tea, three minutes of sustained open-eye meditation, and two direct existential questions: Who are you? What do you think happens to us when we die?

The work creates a threshold within ordinary public space, recalling what Hakim Bey called a Temporary Autonomous Zone. You don’t need to know what it is to enter it. You only need to be curious enough to sit down.

I am interested in what happens when social performance is interrupted by stillness, direct encounter, and sustained attention. SATSANG uses the language of contemporary art to reveal a path toward something more ancient: a direct inquiry into identity, mortality, and the possibility that what we are may exceed the stories we ordinarily tell about ourselves.