Future Fables emerges in continuation of my ongoing site-specific iterations that engage with new-age global phenomena and the repurposing of contemporary waste. The work extends a larger inquiry; how can the discarded matter of our time be transformed into monumental structures that compel us to think, remember and re-imagine? In this iteration, concrete debris becomes both material and metaphor: rubble of cities, ambitions turned residue, the bones of progress now stripped bare.

The desert holds memory the way stone holds time. In AlUla, wind shapes silence into story; ruins outlive the dreams that built them. I return these fragments, not to repair what is broken, but to listen. Concrete, so ubiquitous in the architecture of modernity, is also what we abandon, bury and forget. Here, it stands as witness to construction and collapse, climate anxieties, conflict and desire. Embedded in each fragment is a history of water, labor and aspiration.

From a distance, Future Fables appears as a monumental elliptical, solid, almost fossil-like. Step closer and its fractures reveal themselves, rough edges, weathered surfaces, timelines exposed. The form invites slowing down. It asks viewers to walk around, linger, meditate on the past, present and the futures we choose to lead ourselves into. Have we not learned from our histories of conflict, extraction and ecological disregard? What transformations must begin within us if we are to make the world more habitable, more humane?

The sculpture grows through participation. Local debris carries the resonance of place; visitors are invited to leave words, grief, hope, turning the work into a living archive. In this desert of deep time, Future Fables becomes a fable of resilience, a relic of what remains, a space where ruins speak and tomorrow breathes through sand.