How Pilar Zeta Hacks the Simulation

The first thing Pilar Zeta tells me when I step into her Mexico City apartment is that it’s a work in progress. But like much of her art, it feels complete in its own way—fluid, dreamlike, and precise. Tucked behind an unassuming gate just off a busy street in the Roma Norte neighborhood, the space opens into a kind of sanctuary: high ceilings, soft natural light, and walls that double as a rotating gallery of her own pieces. A massive wool tapestry of her design hangs in the entranceway, its main character is a black cat that looks curiously like her own cat Matrix. However the tapestry came first—the cat manifested itself later.

Born in Buenos Aires and based in Los Angeles for years before landing in Mexico, Pilar is known for her surrealist-inflected, highly symbolic aesthetic that moves easily between digital and physical forms. She first gained attention as a designer and creative director in the music world—working with acts like Coldplay and Lil Nas X—before shifting toward fine art, creating sculptures, immersive installations, and paintings that explore mysticism, sacred geometry, and personal mythology. Her 2021 fine art installation Hall of Visions, presented at Art Basel Miami, marked a turning point in her career: a temple-like structure built on a beach, open to the public as a space for contemplation.

The apartment reflects that same ethos—everything is intentional, from the palette to the intentional placement orbs and crystals. It’s clear that for Pilar, art isn’t just something you make, it’s something you live inside. Here is her story in her own words.

I’m originally from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Growing up my brother had a huge record collection, and my mom was really into metaphysical stuff—UFOs, ancient Egypt, that kind of thing. I grew up surrounded by these huge influences: album artwork, book covers, and a lot of metaphysical artwork in the house.

My mom had her first encounter with a being from another planet who gave her some messages in 1991. I was around five years old. Since I was the youngest I was also the most connected to her, so I went everywhere with her. This was way before the internet so she couldn’t search for information. She thought she was crazy, and my dad didn’t believe her.

She started seeking out information, going to bookstores and group talks with people who had similar encounters. She found a lot of what she was looking for in books because back then, that’s how you got information.

At the same time I was just drawing aliens and really weird shit like UFOs. I still have some of those drawings—beings in spaceships and that kind of thing. That really influenced me—my obsession with the cosmos, everything metaphysical, and the galactic, sci-fi world. My brother was also a huge fan of Pink Floyd and other ‘70s rock bands, and their album art had a lot of metaphysical symbols. I was really drawn to that too.

I remember the first moment when I realized I was interested in graphic design. I was holding an album cover—I think it was Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon—and I thought, “Wow, this is so cool!” I loved the design and I realized then that I wanted to make album artwork for a living. I felt this deep connection between the music and the art, and the layers of meaning that it had. That moment really stuck with me.

I’ve also always been a big fan of books and book covers. I used to collect so many books, especially retro ones. I love book covers from the ‘70s and ‘80s. 

Coming from Argentina, it’s a country that’s really far from the rest of the world. Anyone from Argentina knows that getting things from outside the country is really expensive and complicated. We had a lot of limitations. By the time I finished high school I had a group of friends who were doing an exchange program in Naples, Florida, so I enrolled in some sort of fashion course to get a visa. We went to Florida, and it was the first time I got on a plane. I thought, “Wow, I’m going to America!”

But things didn’t work out as planned in Naples. The hotel we were supposed to stay in didn’t work out, so we took a taxi to Miami. At that point I didn’t have a credit card, computer, or cell phone. I only had $500 that my parents gave me. We had two weeks to figure things out or we would have to go home. We needed to find jobs and I was determined to make it work. I didn’t want to go back to Argentina—I just couldn’t.

In high school I had taken some Photoshop and Illustrator classes, and I was actually really good at them. So I put together a portfolio and started searching for a job. I remember there was an opening at a printing company. They needed a graphic designer and I thought, “Perfect!” They asked me to make a flyer right there on the spot. I started making it, and I imagined it looked terrible, but they loved it and hired me. I couldn’t believe it—I was hired as a graphic designer in Miami!

Two weeks later, all my friends went back to Argentina because we were about to overstay our visas. I stayed illegally and continued working. That’s when I started developing my graphic design skills. At some point I began incorporating my own art into the work, like adding collage elements to the flyers.

The flyers started becoming popular. A few friends were throwing techno parties and asked me to make flyers for them. Before long I was making most of Miami’s club flyers. Eventually the printing company fired me because I was illegal.

I ended up starting my own little business. About five years later I couldn’t stay in Miami illegally anymore—it was becoming too complicated. I went back to Argentina, but not long after, a friend of mine told me he was going to Berlin and I thought, “That sounds fun.” I’d never been to Europe, so I decided to go. I planned on going for three weeks but ended up staying for five years.

In Berlin, I got deeply connected to the underground club scene—places like Berghain, techno music, Richie Hawtin—that whole scene. I eventually started doing album artwork for a lot of music labels in Berlin. Even though they weren’t paying much, it was cool because I built a bit of a reputation as a graphic designer.

Not only was I really fast, but I could produce a lot of flyers and EP covers. I started making a living from it. A few months later I did artwork for Berghain, which was a huge achievement. After that everyone wanted to hang out with me at the club.

By the end of the five years, I was in a relationship with someone who was a Detroit techno DJ. We decided to move to LA. Moving to LA was like starting from scratch. Living there was way more expensive than in Berlin. I realized quickly that I couldn’t continue doing what I was doing in Berlin—charging $150 per EP cover wasn’t going to cut it in LA. I needed to find a new way to make it work.

Then around New Year’s, I remembered a pyramid I had kept since I was a child. We’d bought it in a flea market in Argentina. The pyramid was supposed to help you make your wishes come true if you wrote them inside. I hadn’t used it in years, but I decided to write down my biggest wish: “I want to make album artwork for the biggest rock band.” I wasn’t thinking of any specific band—I just wrote it down.

I ended up getting an email from Coldplay two weeks later. Chris Martin had seen my artwork on Tumblr. It was completely random and totally unexpected. A week later I met Chris and I ended up becoming Coldplay’s art director. That was the big break I needed—finally, a big paying job!

The first album of theirs I worked on was A Head Full of Dreams. The great thing is, I came from a vinyl artwork background. In Berlin I found most of the artwork was on vinyl, which is why I liked it. I had a really good background in that style. We started developing the artwork for the album, and I think it took about two years. They were very specific about how they wanted the artwork to communicate with a very handmade, naive style.

At the time I was coming from the techno scene which was much colder, obscure, and dark. If you look at the first things I sent them, I thought, “How are they still working with me? This is so not their style!”

Long story short, we made a collage. They invited me to London to work at their studio while they were recording. I remember setting up an art studio there. While they were recording, they would come over and paint or work with the supplies we had. It was really fun.

There was this huge canvas, maybe 12 feet long, and we created this collage. It featured a lot of their childhood photos with a color wheel in the center. What’s crazy is at the time, Jamie XX also released his album. A color wheel was going to be the main part of Coldplay’s album artwork, but as we were working on it, Jamie XX released his album with the same concept.

It was one of those moments where I think ideas are floating in an invisible realm, and people channel them at the same time. We ended up using it in the main artwork, but we incorporated only parts of it.

It’s been a decade since we first collaborated. I did their albums Music of the Spheres, A Head Full of Dreams, and Everyday Life. That one even got a Grammy nomination for Best Art Direction! I didn’t expect that at all. It was a real surprise, especially since it was the first time I didn’t use a lot of color, which I don’t typically do. But I worked really hard on it, and we put a lot of love into the process. It was nice to be recognized for that. After that I started doing more commercial work for artists.

At the time I was just focused on album artwork, but I started exploring the idea of directing music videos. I’ve always had a big passion for set design, mainly because I love the core of it and creating spaces. I believe spaces carry a lot of energy that can influence our everyday lives.

Even in the house I was living in, I would rearrange the furniture and get vintage pieces to remake them. I was constantly remaking and reconstructing my space. This was something I had always done, even as a child. But at the time I never really created any physical pieces. I didn’t feel ready to explore that side of myself yet.

Eventually I moved to Portland. My dream was to build a house that reflected my personality and interests—things like postmodernism, architecture, sci-fi, paranormal stuff—things that might not seem related but are very present in my art. Everything was going fine until the pandemic hit.

During that time I was stuck at home, but I still managed to fill my house with beautiful vintage furniture. A friend came by to take photos of the place, and my house got published in a magazine by the New York Times. I was blown away because it was just furniture from the flea market—not even my own design. But it made me realize, “Maybe I have some talent here.” I needed to explore it further, especially since people couldn’t tell whether I designed the pieces or just put them together.

With the pandemic m y jobs were on hold. Video production had slowed down. I had started trying out 3D art, and that’s when I really began envisioning furniture or sculptures in 3D. I used that time to develop my skills as a 3D artist.

Even if I wasn’t good at it at first I’d still create something, put it in Photoshop, and try to make it look cool. I started posting these 3D creations on Instagram, and people seemed to like them. Somehow I feel like I quantum-jumped into a new universe—because that’s when the whole NFT craze started.

I remember the first message I got about NFTs—it was from Nifty Gateway asking if I wanted to be a main artist. At the time I didn’t know what NFTs were and thought it sounded strange, so I didn’t reply. A year later everything exploded with Bitcoin, and people were making huge amounts of money. I thought, “Wait, what was that message I ignored?” I eventually got into NFTs, and I remember my first piece selling for $3,000. It wasn’t $300,000 like some people were making, but it was still good money.

That was my first NFT experience, and it led to something much bigger. A woman who worked with Faena Festival saw my artwork on Instagram and asked if I could make a physical version of it for their annual beach installation in Miami. I was like, “Of course!” It was a dream come true, and that’s how we started working on my first physical installation. The process was much more fulfilling than just selling an NFT. It was a real-life experience.

During the pandemic I did a lot of inner work. I manifested and visualized a lot—not in the cliché kind of way. It was more focused on brain reprogramming and my subconscious. I used techniques like the Silva Method, which is a brain reprogramming method from the ‘70s to enhance mental abilities. After a year of doing that nonstop, I wasn’t surprised that things started manifesting in the physical plane.

Working on the installation for Faena was a result of all that inner work. I had never done anything like this before. I had always been an artist but at that time, I really felt like I was finally stepping into my true role as an artist. That first installation was one of the most exciting experiences of my career. It wasn’t even that long ago—only four years ago.

The other crazy part was that Deepak Chopra wanted to do a meditation in front of my piece during the Miami installation. I had been doing some of his 21-day meditations during the pandemic, so it felt like everything came full circle. I was like, “Wait, this is really weird.” Because when I did those Deepak Chopra meditations, my intention was to create art. And now Deepak Chopra was involved in my art, which makes everything even more bizarre.

It’s like, how does this simulation work? How can we manipulate reality, and how long does it take to manifest it? It’s not a coincidence. It almost feels like I’m hacking the simulation. I still don’t fully understand it, but it was a big moment.

When Deepak did the meditation I told him, “I did a few days of your meditation, but I only got to day five. Imagine if I had done the full 21!” It was beautiful to see that come to life. All the internal work I had been doing really manifested in the physical world. It’s proof that if you do the work, change the direction of your thoughts, and focus your intentions, things really start to come together.

I think vision is super important for an artist. There’s this quote I love: “Vision is the art of seeing what’s invisible to others.” For me, everything is vision. The Miami piece was called “Hall of Visions,” and it was about that idea.

If you think about it, it felt like a cycle ending—because when I first started, I had nothing. I was eating McDonald’s every day and barely getting by. Fast forward to having my piece at the Miami Art Basel years later, it felt like a full circle moment.

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