In the summer of 2026, I placed ten coconut-fiber planters across Chicago, each filled with store-bought soil and no seeds. An AI system I had helped design selected eight of the locations. I chose one myself and kept the last planter in my downtown studio as a control. For 37 days I was allowed to visit but not to intervene. Before each visit I recorded what I expected to find; afterward, what I found.

Some planters disappeared. In others, something grew. As I drove across the city to check on them, I found myself drawn to certain sites and reluctant to return to others. The rules were mine, but I became less sure of what bound me to them.

The records began to fill with things that had nothing to do with the planters. It was my first return to the Midwest in ten years.

Guest Soil takes its title from 客土, a construction term for soil brought in from elsewhere. This work gathers what came back from these visits, and what did not, into an artist’s book and an installation.