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


I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

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

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

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.

Better Lift

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

but really the thing should be autonomous

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

kind of mythopoesis

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."