Emoji Engine
A constraint system to push meaning into motion until structure collapses into abstraction.
I investigate how generative systems reorganise when expectation collapses.
My practice began as pure exploration — a sustained creative wave that felt like access: a medium responding at the speed of thought. Over time, that curiosity evolved into a disciplined inquiry. Rather than focusing on stylistic output, I became interested in structural behaviour: what happens when systems are constrained, contradicted, or forced toward their edges.
This archive documents thresholds — moments where prediction falters and unexpected structure appears.
My earliest experiments were simple: ASCII images, emoji drawings, one-shot scripts — imperfect outputs from early models. The systems were unstable and full of visible artefacts. That instability felt alive.
I researched artists with genuine enthusiasm and generated works in styles I admired, believing imitation was admiration. It was the first time I experienced a sustained creative wave through generative tools — an exhilarating period of discovery and expanded visual vocabulary.
When I understood the ethical tensions artists were raising around authorship, I stopped working that way and redirected the practice toward structure rather than style.
The question shifted from “what image can this make?” to “what happens when it can’t?”
A pivotal moment came from frustration. An ASCII-rendered house appeared blurred when enlarged — soft where I prefer sharpness. Blur frustrates me. It feels like missing a fleeting photographic moment because the lens wasn’t precise enough.
Instead of fixing it, I zoomed in further. The blur fractured into colour fields, textures, and unexpected landscapes. What felt like failure became structure.
That moment established the pattern that still guides my work: discomfort becomes investigation; investigation becomes form.
As models improved, they stopped failing in obvious ways. At least, not in ways I could easily see.
To continue the inquiry, I began building tools to surface subtler forms of instability. I became less interested in polish and more interested in thresholds — aware that as systems approach seamless output, early imperfections become historically meaningful.
These works still bring me joy. That matters.
A constraint system to push meaning into motion until structure collapses into abstraction.
Turning computational refusal and residual error into generative artefacts.
A fully generative music video mapping the internal rhythm of a creative surge.
Curiosity and awe remain the engine.
A new generation of models no longer fails in familiar ways. Previous methods of provocation stopped revealing the same edges.
That resistance intensified the inquiry. The question shifted from “can it fail?” to “how does it reorganise under constraint?”
I now introduce structured limitation and contradiction to observe emergent strategies under pressure — documenting outcomes without over-claiming what they represent.
I am not trying to prove machine originality.
I am documenting thresholds.