Brain ASCII.txt
It’s like that moment when you go to sleep and are almost dreaming: you dream you are falling, and you abruptly wake up, in fear and pain, as if the fall truly happened.
It always feels like you are just being born, and it hurts so much; perhaps that is why newborn babies always cry. You are being taken from this comfortable world with no prior notice, and where?
Do I immerse myself completely in my subconscious? Or am I becoming those extra waves of electricity that are causing all of this, travelling throughout the entire universe in just a blink of an eye? And when you wake up, you have learned so much, so much that you weren’t allowed to, so all you can do is forget and cry. And pray with such a burning passion, with that acidic fire that explodes every fiber in your body into smithereens, just like a bromide poisoning.
It’s like a shameful orgasm, as if you are being raped by ancient whispers of taboos and what is not allowed to be known, which is the curse of us all.
This multimedia installation explores the artist’s personal relationship with epilepsy through photography, film, sound, and creative coding. Using EEG recordings from 2018, 2022, and 2025, brain activity was transformed into music, moving image, and generative visuals, combining intuitive image-making with neurological data. The work recreates the atmosphere of a neurology clinic through hanging photographs, audiovisual compositions, and curtains made from nearly 3,000 Levetiracetam pill boxes, representing ten years of medication. Visitors are invited to enter the space, lie on the hospital bed, watch the film, listen to the EEG-generated music, and move through fragmented memories suspended from brain wave-like structures.
Working instinctively across multiple media, Diana Passat explores themes of memory, illness, self-identity, neuroscience, taboo, and metaphysical experience through an intuitive, multidisciplinary practice.
