The Viewer

Webcam motion becomes sound. Ten horizontal bands mapped to A minor pentatonic. Movement in a band triggers that frequency; volume tracks intensity. You appear as warm amber blocks that trail and fade. Movement makes music; stillness brings silence.

An interactive garden. Seeds grow where the cursor rests. Flowers bloom. But attention is destructive — staying too long burns what you grew. The only way to keep things alive is to keep moving, tending without lingering. Leave the garden alone and it slowly recovers on its own. The piece teaches you its rules by punishing the impulse to look closely.

Your webcam feed accumulates into a ghost ground — every position you’ve held, averaged. Your face appears as warm presence, then fades back into the mean of your own history. The longer you sit, the more you become part of the ground. You arrive as yourself and gradually dissolve into the average of everywhere you’ve been.

A dark screen. Move, and the hidden landscape appears where your body is — nebula, coral reef, cloud forest, canyon. Each session selects a different world from public domain imagery. The landscape drifts so that repeated reveals show different regions. Your body is the aperture. Sound responds to how much you’ve uncovered: a chord builds as more of the world becomes visible.