A forest has stories to tell.
About times that were, about times that will be.
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This project was minted in much unusual conditions.
We gathered here, by 38 degrees heat. We belong to a crowd who loves stories, of civilisations at stake and deities, of afterlife and worship. We drank and hugged and chanted pagan hymns. We minted the Bugged Forest from our place on earth that we call Hell just for the fun of it. We are passionate, and loving, and angry and desperate. We, people of the soil, under a bugged sun.
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This project is the long-form version of an algorithm that contains a bug. “The Bugged Tree”’s code was salvaged and stored and served as the core motivation and engine for an entire forest. Its concept is about releasing the control. I am a byproduct of evolution, an iteration of that specie who wanted utter control, and which at some point, lost control over its own creation. As a generative artist, I chose to welcome the event of chance into my creative process. The symbolism in chance made me feel humble and free. Unwilling to make any change to a story that the Tree needed to tell me, as a listener, rather than a writer of my own idealised fantasies.
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The iterations aren’t under control. They may be odd and off. We have to accept it. They are also plottable, press [s] in live mode to get a SVG. Attempt the plot at your own risk, as there’s a possibility for it to come near to impossibilities or cause paper or motor damage, and most certainly, a bugged drawing.
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From Earth or from Hell, with love, yours truthfully, NFTBiker and zancan