a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
i see a website
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.but i respect your search
Lift Analysis
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
theres a kind of a cowardice to generative art that i want to avoid though. i want the kind of relationship to this thing that a game designer has to a game engine
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
wait what is that
but really the thing should be autonomous
As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.
...
no like which do people call me
what do you think my name is