.png)
idk
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
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
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
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
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
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
i really havent