Lawrence Wahlstrom, a machinist, built The Do Nothing Machine—a creation containing a staggering array of gears and moving parts. Wahlstrom spent his entire life perfecting it, even as his colleagues dismissed it as a pointless endeavour. Yet today, while many of their “useful” machines have long since ended up in the bin, Wahlstrom’s so-called “useless” machine is celebrated as a work of art. This strikes me as a powerful reminder that what we deem important and unimportant shifts over time. In the grander scheme, many of our actions lose significance, and what once seemed inconsequential may ultimately become meaningful.
In many ways, we ourselves are like do nothing machines. Though our lives are full of actions and accomplishments, time eventually erodes the weight of these pursuits, leaving us with questions about what truly defines us.
This theme led me to explore the nature of self-image in a new self-portrait. People often identify themselves with their bodies, but our bodies are always changing on a molecular level. Cells renew, hair falls, nails grow, and our skin regenerates, constantly replacing what once defined us. In my portrait, I sought to capture this fluidity. The image is constructed entirely from my own hair—material that was once a physical part of me. I titled the work Self-Portrait to invite viewers to reflect on the paradox of self-image and identity.
The shape of the hair in the image forms a bridge—a metaphorical Chain Bridge—that symbolises connection and continuity. This bridge has personal significance for me. I lived in Pest and worked in Buda for many years, crossing the Chain Bridge daily. I left countless “footprints” on its walkways and no doubt, atoms and cells that merged into its structure.
I also chose this bridge because of its remarkable history. During the Second World War, all bridges in Budapest, including the Chain Bridge, were destroyed. After the war, the people of Budapest painstakingly rebuilt it in the exact same way. Although the original bridge no longer exists, we continue to call it the Széchenyi Chain Bridge, crediting Count Széchenyi as its benefactor. The bridge, in its rebuilt form, embodies resilience and the way we cling to identity and continuity despite change.
This work asks us to reflect on how we define ourselves and others. Much like the bridge, which has transformed yet remains a symbol of connection, we too are constantly in flux, even as we seek to present a fixed identity. The boundaries between objects and people blur when we look more closely, yet we persist in naming and defining them as if they are permanent. This self-portrait, with hair that was once mine but is no longer, challenges viewers to question the meaning of identity and self in a world where change is the only constant.