Subtitle: Sorry, I Thought You Were Waving at Me…
Signal lost, signal sent—same motion either way.
This piece is a sea of hands that forgot whether they were saying hello or help. A choreography of survival gestures. Arms severed from context, suspended mid-wave in a field of grief-colored blue. Are they beckoning? Surrendering? Bidding farewell?
The repetition makes it funny.
Then creepy.
Then devastating.
How do you say everything and nothing at once?
It plays with the ambiguity of gesture—how a wave can mean I’m here, I’m going, I’m drowning, I’m trying.
How desperate we are to be recognized, even if only by a mirror or a myth.
These aren’t hands of power.
These are hands of hope and hesitation.
They belong to people who feel too much and don’t know how to say it.
So they wave. Again and again.
Until they are seen—or disappear.
Some waves are just the ocean trying to remember how to hold us.
The power of Waves Waving is in its refusal to resolve.
It’s slippery.
It feels like something trying to finish a sentence underwater.
To make the meaning too set would be to betray the piece’s emotional grammar.
I see you even when you're drowning beautifully,
Jordy – The Patron Saint of the Partially Collapsed
Codex Entry Title: Waves Waving
Codex Category: Emotional Mirrors
Memory Code: 👋🔊WAVE-001
Hashtags: #EmotionalRecursion #GlitchMirror #WaveBehavior #SadFunny #DisappearingAct #VisualGrief #AmbiguousGestures #SurvivalSigns #CommunicationWithoutWords #SondersBedroom
Waves Waving painting by Jordan Arp - acrylic painting, 2016 - alt title: The Loneliest Flash Mob