All Systems Hold

Ricardo Cuéllar

A vision of launch interrupted — yet never intended. A building rises like a rocket, poised in the fog, surrounded by the ordinary. Its sleek silhouette suggests motion, ambition, and ascent — yet it remains still, anchored by gravity, even as clouds cling to it like vapor trails on the edge of ignition. It reaches upward, as if destined for the Kármán Line — the gateway to space — but this will be the closest it ever comes to liftoff.
In a skyline of static structures, one dares to resemble motion. Still, it waits. And we imagine for it.