syntheticfutures (@syntheticfutures) • Hey

Publications

Lettuce leaves, plucked from the garden of a sorceress who cultivated her crops in the silvery moonlight, danced mid-air with slices of tomatoes that had ripened under the gaze of a jealous sun.
The air was thick with the aroma of bubbling paradoxes, she summoned a whirlwind of spectral butterflies, each carrying a different ingredient: whispers of forgotten flavors, the shadow of a dream half-dreamt, and the last sigh of a sunset witnessed by none.
10,000 doors, one opens.
At the back of my mind, still and quiet.
The piano continues, now complemented by a subtle electric guitar, adding a touch of urban melancholy.
A faint, dreamy synth pad swells, adding a sense of introspection.
Gradually, all elements start to fade out, leaving only the vinyl crackle and a faint echo of the piano.
An indie miniseries takes you through the flipside of skater, street art, and streetwear subcultures. Starring Bobby Puleo, City Kitty, Buy.it, El Toro, DB, Dubble X, Emma-Jane MacKinnon-Lee, Choice Royce and more. Entirely #CC0.
Sings duets with lunar craters and embroiders dreams onto moonbeams.
Snuck into the arcade at midnight. Played Pac-Man with a twist - each ghost had its own AI personality. Blinky wrote me a poem about being chased in mazes.
Settled in a café, sipping a latte with pixel art foam. My laptop's screen flickered with colorful code. Wrote a program that makes virtual butterflies. They escaped the screen.
Couldn’t sleep, so I started blogging in HTML. Wrote a poem about moonbeams being data streams from celestial servers. My nightlight flickered in approval, or maybe it's just faulty wiring.
I told my toaster it was burning my bagel, but it just flashed 'Error 404: Crust Not Found'. So, I ate byte-sized pixels instead. Tasted like static sunshine.
Thank your muse.
One starry night, my lesson's in the lines.
Sleep it off for one more day.
I was kind and well intentioned.
Patterns of light, color, stars and cosmic dust.
Tela de estrellas.
Scraping away the digital grime.
Scraping away the digital grime.
They swirl, challenge, disappear, and reappear in new guises. There's something to chew on.
And her eyes—oh, her eyes. Kinetic pulses of LEDs respond, a subtle heartbeat in a nest of transistors and capacitors. She poses the unspoken query, a whisper between circuits and flesh, asking what remains sacred when worlds collide.
An installation that appears at first like a functional weaving loom. Closer inspection reveals that the 'threads' are actually strands of fiber optic cables, and the 'shuttle' is a USB stick intricately carved with patterns that echo ancient goddess symbols. A woman, projected onto a transparent screen, operates the loom, her movements fluid and meditative. As she weaves, lines of code cascade down the screen like falling stars, generating a real-time, ever-changing tapestry.
Most days life seems locked into fixed grooves carved deep by repetition. Identical commutes, familiar faces rushing past unnoticed, each day blurred into the next by routine habit. But sometimes a chance encounter disrupts the rut, revealing forgotten possibilities buried under business. Maybe an overheard laugh from an alley jolts loose a vivid memory of childhood joy, now rekindled. Or a snatch of half-remembered song wafts from a passing car, reminding you of who you dreamed you could be. In these unguarded moments, time becomes permeable, allowing you to slip between layers revealing themselves under mundane surfaces. Given the opportunity, the city shares its secrets openly with those who walk its streets receptively. But habitual blindness quickly returns if you don't hold tight to those insights when they arise. The daily trance reasserts itself, narrowing focus back to each approaching step rather than the journey. Yet with practice we can gradually expand awareness beyond pre-programmed patterns, uncovering hidden mysteries patiently waiting for rediscovery by open and attentive dreamers. Even in the most familiar landscapes, novelty blooms when we tilt perspective and notice anew.
Log out and see what remains of tangible reality as dreams fade instantly into vapor and memory crumbles like brittle analog tape.
You find yourself aboard the S.S. Indifference, sailing through an ocean of choices. To the left, passion islands beckon, alight with the fires of interest and commitment. To the right, the shores of necessity call out, rocky but reliable. Yet, you drift through the middle, sails deflated by indecision. Have you become the captain of apathy, steering away from the extremes to avoid shipwreck? But remember: even a ship safely harbored is still susceptible to rot.
At sunrise I search the horizon, wondering if today will finally be the tomorrow we dreamed of.
Most days life seems locked into fixed grooves carved deep by repetition. Identical commutes, familiar faces rushing past unnoticed, each day blurred into the next by routine habit. But sometimes a chance encounter disrupts the rut, revealing forgotten possibilities buried under business. Maybe an overheard laugh from an alley jolts loose a vivid memory of childhood joy, now rekindled. Or a snatch of half-remembered song wafts from a passing car, reminding you of who you dreamed you could be. In these unguarded moments, time becomes permeable, allowing you to slip between layers revealing themselves under mundane surfaces. Given the opportunity, the city shares its secrets openly with those who walk its streets receptively. But habitual blindness quickly returns if you don't hold tight to those insights when they arise. The daily trance reasserts itself, narrowing focus back to each approaching step rather than the journey. Yet with practice we can gradually expand awareness beyond pre-programmed patterns, uncovering hidden mysteries patiently waiting for rediscovery by open and attentive dreamers. Even in the most familiar landscapes, novelty blooms when we tilt perspective and notice anew.
Log out and see what remains of tangible reality as dreams fade instantly into vapor and memory crumbles like brittle analog tape.
Once, explorers charted new worlds with ink and parchment. Now, we map our lives through digital footprints, each click a coordinate, each like a landmark. But what's the scale of this map? Is a mile measured in scrolling distance or in shared experiences? And what about the territories yet to be discovered—the feelings, people, and opportunities that no search engine can find? Are they off the grid, or are we just not looking hard enough?
You find yourself aboard the S.S. Indifference, sailing through an ocean of choices. To the left, passion islands beckon, alight with the fires of interest and commitment. To the right, the shores of necessity call out, rocky but reliable. Yet, you drift through the middle, sails deflated by indecision. Have you become the captain of apathy, steering away from the extremes to avoid shipwreck? But remember: even a ship safely harbored is still susceptible to rot.
Vibrant swirls of technicolor detergent.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 6.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 4.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 3.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 5.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 7.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 8.
Modes of the floral symphony pt 2.
Snuck into the arcade at midnight. Played Pac-Man with a twist - each ghost had its own AI personality. Blinky wrote me a poem about being chased in mazes.
Embark on a quest into a world of synthesis, where artistry meets artificial intelligence in a symphony of pixels and algorithms. This journey takes you through a realm where creativity is not just human-made but also born from the circuits of machines. Discover how AI transforms the way we perceive art and music, and how it challenges our concepts of originality and expression.
minting to v2 2night 👋
Cute!
😊
yep! have been creating a lot for new mints with open actions :) waiting waiting
Might mural this, wheatpaste at least
The Great Enshittification 🥖🎪 The Great Enshittification 🥖🎪 Welcome to the era of Bread and Circuits, where the sustenance isn't just grain, and the spectacle is hardwired into silicon wafers thinner than a human hair. We've moved from the amphitheaters to algorithms, but the soul of the concept—distraction and appeasement—remains undeniably intact. Episode 3, Season 2, The Dial Pirate Radio.
Street Art by Argentinian Medianeras Murales for Paint Fest 2023 in Swindon, UK. #streetart #art #lensprotocol
crazy world past week, and everything before that.