Tharanas Chuaychoo is an absolute master at taking the visual and aural exhaust of the technical world and turning it into hypnotic pieces of art. Televisions gone awry and damaged digital screens appear to feature prominently in Chuaychoo’s work, but they are not merely colorized or reorganized renditions. Chuaychoo makes art from that mysterious and slightly uncomfortable zone where technical byproducts mate with the human psyche, a place where dreams are imbued with the scorching fuzz of white noise and fragmented digital images.

In a way, Chuaychoo’s art provides visual explanation why broken televisions or televisions gone off the air create a vague discomfort—an existential crack, an intruding knowledge that you feel but can’t define. Here are pictures of the the so-called “white noise” of those late nights in the olden days when people woke up on their couches to screens gone mad and that soft, crinkling sound, like millions of soft metal cans being crushed, but muted and compressed.

White noise. The perfect soundtrack to the ordered chaos happening on the screen. And the perfect soundtrack to that amplified sense of discombobulation, the feeling that despite waking up in your own home, you felt like it was an alien place, maybe dangerous, maybe your prison of loneliness, definitely the stuff of horror films. Those eery sentiments that would stick until the rising sun washed them away.