digitallineart: Unique order in the chaos of digital lines
Matronly Arch off the Tilling
66 catenaries pile up and interlace; from a step back they read as one surface. A muted blue ground sits behind them, and every line answers it in a different colour.
Each piece is generated once, straight from a formula, and never remade. The lines land wherever the math puts them; the colour falls where chance decides. Nothing on this wall is a print or a copy. What hangs here now will be gone before you think to look again, and something that has never existed will take its place.
Thursday
112 works so far 7,286 shapes
Hung today, 15 October · leaves the wall on 22 October.
Grave-toned Acre Inside Joining
When Patinaed Basin upon Setting
What Austere Abyss beneath Darkening
When Sunlit Breath toward Glowing
The Dependable Bog in the Turning
Silent Ash in Enshrouding
What the Plain Basin Around Resting
The Constant Alcove among the Extending
The Sandy Acre outside the Carving
Anchored Acre into Building
The Lonesome Basalt alongside Sapping
What the Alabaster down Lithe Crescendoing
When Composed Brook underneath Knitting
Composed Acre outside Resting
The Aura of Liquid along Scattering
When Soft Canyon atop Guarding
The Spotless Alabaster round the Unfurling
What the Bog atop Level-headed Fashioning
What the Bay Against Thoughtful Delineating
When the Amber Basin after Spanning
The Bog of Centered amidst Resting
What the Evenhanded Acre past Fastening
The Hewn Acre across Weighing
Shaded Brine onto Drowning
One line. One moment. Never again.
Every work on this wall comes out of code and chance. Nothing is traced from a template, and no filter is laid over it afterwards. An algorithm takes a new random start for every picture and lets the uncertainty do the rest.
The works are made live through the day, one every few minutes, from carefully balanced parameters. Shapes unfold, colours shift and lines cross in ways nobody can predict, and nobody can repeat them either. The rules are strict and the outcome is open, which is why some pictures look as if they had chosen their own path.
Nothing is edited and nothing is made twice. Each picture is what one run of the program produced, and it exists in that one version only. That makes every piece here one of a kind, a fingerprint left by the code: precise and random at the same time, and not made to last.
Whether you collect, make things yourself or just like rhythm in a picture, stop here for a moment. What you find will be gone soon, and nothing quite like it will come back.
Each work is made once and never copied. Go and find yours.