TheParagon

The Drone Beneath the Sky-Skin is not a title, it is a threshold. It names the drone not as machine, but as spectral envoy, stitched into the living membrane of the world. The sky becomes skin, it is porous, trembling, archival... and the drone moves within it like a scalpel, a ghost, a ritual blade. It does not mourn what it sees, nor flinch at the grief it maps. It inherits our gaze, our thirst, our forgetting. Its flight is based on ceremony, its silence a hymn of estrangement. And in its wake, a question blooms like static: who watches those that watch and they do not know? This is not surveillance, it is structured and yet offers an aerial artistic insight. Not oversight, but a haunting awareness. An object for the ethics of remote presence, inscribed in the air we breathe.