The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
hiding from the rain
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
in a post. I want to be remembered
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
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.One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"Put a blanket."
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
Better Lift
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
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.but really the thing should be autonomous