My newsletter is the best place to find out about new work.
I send it out once a month.
It's a snapshot of my creative process where I share new work, upcoming exhibitions and my research into how interactive technology shapes human agency.
Most of all though, it's about how wild it is to be a human.
In What seem'd corporal melted as breath into the wind, each circle transforms an interconnected and continuously fluctuating field beneath. To me, it relates to the nature of perception, the helpful but imperfect boundaries we draw around what we see as we classify reality into a model in our mind.
For the past six months, I've kept an hour long morning practice of coding visuals. Most times I've listened to Jon Hopkins's album Music for Psychedelic Therapy from start to finish.
Coding generative visuals is the purest form of creative coding for me. I have the image on the left of my screen, code on the right. Each time I save the document, the image updates. Each pixel I can trace back to a few hundred lines of code. And yet, each tweak to the code is usually a hunch that may or may not lead to a surprising and beautiful result. I suppose in this way, it follows the same ‘variable reward’ pattern of addictive technology. Except instead of mindless email checking, it's mindful creative flow: hypnotic and exhilarating.
Here are some outputs along the way of the above artwork:
I'm writing from the basement of Morley Gallery where we're halfway through rigging Post Truth and Beauty to the wall.
This piece is a labour of love. The install takes two people three days. Each space needs…
Hey everyone! Events in Glasgow/London coming up. And a request for your help below. But first…
I've just released a new video of the spectacular Catriona Robertson performing with Sonifi…
In February's newsletter, fresh from a studio residency, I promised an update on Sonified Body once I'd had pause for reflection.
Among that which emerged is a new manifesto and filmed performance. I'll be publishing these soon, but not yet. March has been a month of interruption.
My experience of the invasion of Ukraine is of course incomparable to those experiencing…
There's a strange feeling of grief at the conclusion of an intense collaboration.
It's familiar enough to me now to know that it's a good sign, that an intensity of connection reached has taken me somewhere unique to this group, somewhere I could not get to by myself.
The grief is the acknowledgement of the impermanence of that state.
Last week I was working with th…
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