In Turn the Light on, I have installed Starlink internet in an abandoned house. The building, uninhabited for decades, stands as a quiet witness to neglect and the slow erosion of time.

Now, invisible signals beam down from satellites orbiting the earth, moving silently through the space.

The Wi-Fi network is named “Carlo Acutis,” after the (soon to be) canonised patron saint of the internet, a teenager who saw the divine in the digital. In naming the signal after him, the gesture becomes a digital prayer that flows through code, satellites, and bandwidth.

The act of installing the network is a small gesture, that points up.
It is not dramatic, but deliberate: a quiet intervention, like the simple act of turning on a light.