A humanoid robot built from discarded tools and machine parts, Forgotten sits waiting — lights flickering faintly within its head, like a Jack O’Lantern in the dark. Its story is one of abandonment: left behind by the one who once commanded it, still loyal, still waiting. The sculpture embodies absence, the ghost of companionship and duty unfulfilled.
Once, he waited faithfully, patient and loyal, for someone who never returned. His frame is worn but intact, his posture a quiet testament to hope that slowly turned into resignation. Forgotten carries the weight of years — the rust, the stillness, the memory of purpose left behind.
When illuminated, his hollow head glows like a lantern, transforming him from relic to presence. By day he is somber and stoic, by night he becomes something otherworldly — a watchful guardian, or perhaps a ghostly reminder. In light or in shadow, Forgotten is a story waiting in silence.
He is both relic and witness, a reminder of how easily devotion can be abandoned, and how even in silence, something waits.
Christine Rose 