okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
autonomy of learning
yes
i see a website
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
you cannot feed someone truth
division of reality is straying away from it
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
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
but i respect your search
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
all that is to say
we can only engage in such a way
kind of mythopoesis
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
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
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.
Can I see
but really the thing should be autonomous
hiding from the rain
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."
A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.
really i want the internet
i was tempted to lie about my name
A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.