Cache of a Deleted Girl
AI poetry film
2026
02:46min
Cache of a Deleted Girl traces what happens to a female identity after exorcism. Through poem, AI-generated imagery, cloned voice, and composite bodies, it reframes haunting not as possession, but as hosting — a temporary, careful act of carrying another within oneself, where identity persists, circulates, and is collectively held in feminist care.
The work begins with a fragment: a piece of red fabric recognized as part of Roberta Breitmore’s attire, the persona Lynn Hershman Leeson once embodied and later exorcised. This encounter opens a speculative space — where does her spirit persist once released? The work follows this question through a poem, in which female bodies hold traces of others without fixing or resolving them.
The poem functions as both script and structure. Its lines become prompts generating AI images, combining self-portraits with archival references and synthetic body fragments. Figures emerge as composites rather than individuals. A cloned voice speaks the text, suggesting presence without a fixed body. Across poem, image, and voice, the work builds a system in which bodies are assembled, shared, and temporarily inhabited.
“Cache of a Deleted Girl” understands feminism as a genealogy without bloodline, as a form of mediated inheritance in which exorcised female souls are received and held by a collective of women. Every woman who speaks carries an echo and cares for it temporarily. Haunting is reinterpreted as an act of feminist solidarity — a form of resistance that takes shape through shared presence, sustained by practices of care and a shared female strength.
The Cursor in My Mouth
AI poetry video
2026
00:13 min
The Cursor in My Mouth forms a partial sequence within the larger work Cache of a Deleted Girl. Developed through AI-based processes, the overarching project asks what happens to a female identity after it has been exorcised, rethinking haunting not as possession but as hosting — a careful, temporary act of carrying another within oneself.
Within this framework, The Cursor in My Mouth isolates a moment of articulation: language as a site where identities pass through, overlap, and persist. The broader work unfolds from a fragment — a piece of red fabric linked to Roberta Breitmore, the persona once embodied and later exorcised by Lynn Hershman Leeson — opening a speculative space around the afterlife of constructed selves.
Across the project, a poem functions as both script and generative structure. Its lines prompt AI-generated imagery that merges self-portraiture, archival references, and synthetic body fragments. Figures appear as composites, while a cloned voice carries the text without anchoring it to a fixed body. In this system, identities are not singular but assembled, shared, and temporarily inhabited.
Positioned within this ecology, The Cursor in My Mouth emphasizes the act of voicing as a form of transmission. Feminism emerges here as a genealogy without bloodline — a mediated inheritance in which exorcised identities are held collectively. Haunting becomes an act of feminist care: a shared practice of sustaining presence across bodies.
I Keep Space in My Body
AI poetry video
2026
00:12 min
I Keep Space in My Body forms a short sequence within the larger work Cache of a Deleted Girl. Developed through AI-based processes, it focuses on the body as a site of reception — a space in which other presences can be held without being fixed or resolved.
The work draws on the project’s central logic of hosting rather than possession. Through AI-generated imagery and a cloned voice, the body appears as porous and composite, shaped by what passes through it. Language and image intertwine, suggesting identity as something that is not contained, but continually negotiated and shared.
Within this framework, holding becomes an act of care. I Keep Space in My Body understands embodiment as a collective condition, where traces of others are sustained temporarily. Presence emerges not as singular, but as something carried together — a quiet form of feminist continuity.
I Move Objects With Your Hands
AI poetry video
2026
00:09 min
I Move Objects With Your Hands is part of the larger work Cache of a Deleted Girl, which asks what remains after a female identity has been exorcised. The work approaches haunting not as possession, but as hosting — a condition in which another presence is taken into the body and carried forward.
It explores how identity persists through others, as something enacted and shared. Movements unfold through bodies that are no longer singular. Gestures appear subtly displaced, as if guided by more than one agent, while voice and body articulate a shared presence.
Developed as part of Cache of a Deleted Girl, the work draws on AI-generated image sequences and cloned voice to stage action as something shared across bodies. I Move Objects With Your Hands is structured around a single line from a larger poem, isolating and intensifying its movement. From this fragment, composite figures and gestures emerge.
The body becomes a site of assembly, where identities overlap and agency is distributed. What has been erased does not disappear, but continues to act through those who carry it — positioning hosting as a form of feminist care and continuity.
Ceria B. Teramore
animated AR poetry sculpture
2026
Ceria B. Teramore is an AR figure moving through reality without a body, visible only through devices. Formed from poems, AI-generated fragments, and traces of Roberta Breitmore, she appears as a collective female ghost — a presence that persists as language, memory, and shared haunting rather than a single, stable self.
I am working on a poem when a piece of red fabric washes up inside it. I recognise it as part of Roberta Breitmore’s costume, which I encountered at the ZKM in Karlsruhe — an identity that Lynn Hershman Leeson inhabited for several years, lending it her body before freeing herself through an exorcism. I begin to ask what happens to the spirit of such a figure: where does a female identity go once it has been exorcised?
I translate this question into an augmented reality work. Starting from the poem, I generate a new figure with AI, drawing on my archive of self-portraits, a hint of red referencing Roberta’s attire, and camera eyes. In AR, the figure is bodiless yet present, an added layer of memory visible only through devices — her body made of poems, spoken as a thin skin of language over space. The work treats this spirit less as a fixed person than as a collective female figure. “Roberta” becomes an open variable, a placeholder for those denied a stable identity.
Feminism appears here as a genealogy without bloodline, a mediated inheritance in which exorcised female souls are received and held by a community of women. Every woman who speaks also speaks an echo. Ceria B. Teramore — a name assembled from letters of Roberta Breitmore and extended by the initial C, in reference to Joyce Carol Oates — becomes a temporary vessel for this shared afterlife.
