kind of mythopoesis

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

Rain, starting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

but i respect your search

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

no longer writing in the third person

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Better Lift

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

"Put a blanket."

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.