My name is Taha. Artist, Writer, and Technologist.

I started capturing images before I understood what I was looking for. Photography. Video. Digital manipulations. Now I build digital architecture on the internet and call it art because the dictionary hasn't caught up.

I live in Vancouver, BC. The city and I maintain mutual hostage situations. It won't let me leave. I won't let it define me.

There's no manifesto here. Manifestos are for people who believe change is possible. This is a notepad. Scribbles on digital napkins. Brain matter splattered against server walls.

This notepad contains my writings on life, art, technology, and my project sandbox.

Identity. Freedom. Immigration. Social structures. Spaces. Culture. These aren't just themes I obsess over. They're pressure points where society bruises most vividly.

You can reach out. Or not. The internet makes connection theoretical, like quantum particles that exist in potential until observed.

The average person consumes 34 gigabytes of information daily. None of it changes them. I'm not interested in being part of your digital fast food diet. Here's another pretentious sentence: "I hope my work speaks for itself." My work doesn't speak. It just sits here, waiting for you to project meaning onto it.