Paul/Brian is a disembodied crocheted head with a motion sensor and speaker as eyes. Crochet and stuffing, the language of soft toys and comfort, makes up a confused superfluous body for the technology, humanising the circuitry as sentient and organic. Paul/Brian lays on his side with his circuitry and stuffing spilling out of the open neck, as he voices his existential questioning of purpose and reality. Speaking to viewers as they pass, his quiet and crackly voice implies a sense of abandonment or passing time as he seemingly degrades, forcing quietness and pause from viewers to hear his words. The absurdity of a toy that is grappling with self-awareness and existential doubt speaking to you is quickly matched by the sympathy felt for Paul. The words written by me but spoken by a text-to-speech voice named Brian, disrupt the robot or AI implications instead making Paul more a kind of programmed, mechanical ventriloquist puppet, than robot. Paul therefore occupies a liminal space between life and death, sentient and controlled, conveying familiar fears and questions about the fundamentals of life. The absurdity of the incongruent combination of the slow craft of crochet and the constant newness of technology as well as the control in construction and interaction, eases any weight from Paul’s existential fears instead making them comfortingly silly.