I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
you have a beautiful account btw
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Better Lift
kind of mythopoesis
plato
yeah
Lift Analysis
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
whats your name?
so an active mazelike process
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.