I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
Tag Archives: books
Dispatches from the Void. V.II
Forgiveness is a process — especially if you’re a cat. This week, we navigate birthday dread, garden triumphs, and the slow but surreal shift toward our future in Thailand. There’s wine, weed wackers, and a temporary job at (possibly fictional) Amazon. Honourable mentions were won. Sausages were offered. Love, as ever, persists.
The Catdiva Monologues Volume VII: Return of the Rogit, Rise of the Miserable Sun. Descent.
He rubs their faces like some simpering little orphan in a Dickensian melodrama. ‘Oh please, Mother, can I have some more…’ Why I—I could—”
This week, betrayal comes in paw form. Mowgli’s stolen tactics, Rogit’s soggy flirtations, and the unspeakable horror of a brush to the face push Akela Jean Underland to the edge (of the basin). Volume VI: Pawprints of Betrayal, Bristles of War is live now.
FAce-lIft Continuation XXI: Claudia Andujar
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
FAce-lIft Continuation XX: Tunlaya Dunnvatanachit
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
The Catanic Verses V (A Guide to Feline Religosophy)
The prodigals return. Flushed, apologetic, and waving foreign meats like penance. But for Poe and the paws, trust is not dispensed with the drop of a Dreamie. This week’s revelation speaks of broken bowls, delayed doors, and the sacred art of suspicion. Chicken may soothe. But betrayal lingers.
FAce-lIft Continuation XIX: Minjae Lee
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
FAce-lIft Continuation XVIII: Digital and Machine Art
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
Tick Tock
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. But Evangeline did. Now the house speaks in riddles and the clock runs in reverse. Her fate was sealed long before the latch clicked. Tick. Tock. Tock. Tick. Some doors don’t open — they consume.
FAce-lIft Continuation XVII: Reflection
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
