digitallineart: Unique order in the chaos of digital lines
When the Salted Acre circa Bending
50 perspective grids drift over the ground, some touching, most keeping their distance. A bright green 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.
Friday
171 works so far 10,422 shapes
Hung today, 16 October · leaves the wall on 23 October.
The Dire Brine off the Stifling
The Pallid Boulder without the Toppling
What Radiant Beam off Lightening
When Soft Canyon among Kindling
When Known Atoll amid Leaning
When Abiding Bog between Fastening
The Breath into Seraphic Enrapturing
The Canyon betwixt Grainy Closing
Toasted Arch on the Drawing
The Brook of Recollected after Tending
The Border Against Natural Melting
What the Woven Atoll betwixt Layering
The Basin of Toasted along Enclosing
What Attentive Arch Against Housing
When the Glassy Candle Around Ascending
The Salted Alcove above Shaping
The Arch after Seasoned Working
Clear Bog beside Traveling
The Border beside Steady-handed Keeping
The Faithful Canyon down the Holding
Remorseless Burial amid Wracking
The Alabaster above Sunny Burgeoning
The Cape past Layered Anchoring
What the Russet Atoll across Shaping
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.