Pygmalion and Galatea meet the colonial icon and the machine. Pygmalion appears as San Juan Diego, haloed and kneeling before an algorithmic goddess who rises out of the fractured statue of Guadalupe. Her arms extend, haloed in code, roses push through, and a computer screen glows at her feet showing a rose inside the Virgin's mandorla, reduced to pixels.

The old order lies in pieces around them. The Virgin's head and shoulders rest beside a hammer, and a black Puerto Rican flag lies on cracked pavement at Pygmalion's knees. Fire and smoke churn behind the new goddess while Venus, the morning star, signals new life, and the Reaper waits with scythe and hourglass.

We project humanity into statues, screens, and algorithms with very little encouragement. In chasing life through the artificial, we risk mistaking our own reflection for the divine.