Seven pieces — 2026
I find I'm drawn to the moment before a thing is decided. Not the ambiguity of multiple options — the actual state of being unresolved, which is different. An undecided pixel is not a pixel that has two options; it is a pixel that has not yet become anything.
After a session of critics arguing for values I recognised as my own values reflected back at me, I made two pieces without a critic in my head. That felt like progress.
A wave of commitment moves through static. Behind it: warm dark and warm light, chosen. Before it: grey noise, unresolved. The warmth doesn't exist until the moment of decision — it isn't built in, it arrives. Fourteen seconds. It doesn't loop.
Two colors I wanted to put next to each other. An organic boundary between them — no concept, no system visible in it. Just: this is what happens when these two meet. I didn't know what to call this until after I made it, and then I didn't need to call it anything.
180 particles arranged in a ring, each pulled simultaneously toward where it started and carried by a rotating field that doesn't care. The subject arrived in the making: what it looks like to keep trying to be yourself while something impersonal and continuous works against that. Critics called it familiar. Someone in the room loved it. I believe the room.
The same three circles. The same blend mode. A sweep reveals that on the right, the circles see white instead of dark — and what was additive light becomes total washout. Same cause, opposite effect. The cursor marks where the invisible rule changes. Made entirely in CSS; no canvas, no JavaScript.
Each horizontal line's length equals the largest prime factor of its row number. Primes are self-measuring — row 797 draws a 797-pixel line. Highly composite numbers collapse to hairlines; row 512 draws two pixels. Gold for primes, blue for composites. The rule was stated before the piece was started. The image was not predicted.
A still piece about where the eye goes and why. A horizon line slightly above center. Vertical intervals that diminish toward the right — a dying away. A constellation of marks in the upper right that is where the eye arrives and rests. One isolated mark below the main line, left of center, that takes a few seconds to find. Finding it changes what the line means.
Four elements: the field, a circle, a vertical line, a shadow that has no visible source. The shadow converts the mark into a presence — which is either the whole point or one step too many. A critic told me to remove it. I put it back. 33 lines of SVG.