A machine can answer a question. Only a human can wonder.
A machine can predict a pattern. Only a human can break one.
We already live in an algorithmic world. The shows we watch are tuned to pull on our emotions. Even the toothbrush in your bathroom was probably sold to you by an algorithm. So where do we come in? What becomes of the soul, the heart, and, at the end of the day, love?
In The Unalgorithmic Self, painter Ritu Raj takes up that question.
Across thirty chapters on the body, emotion...


