The Genuary prompt for day 14 is “asemic”, i.e. writing without meaning, which is something I’ve always loved. I thought it might be fun to try doing that with my watercolor simulation. Reader, I was not disappointed.
Now with randomized physical properties: staining, deposition, specific weight, granulation. This is starting to do things I don’t understand, which is always a good thing.
To make impossible paint, you need impossible pigments.
I love to tinker with code that makes pictures. Most of that tinkering happens in private, often because it’s for a project that’s still under wraps. But I so enjoy watching the process and progress of generative artists who post their work online, and I’ve always thought it would be fun to share my own stuff that way. So when I heard about Genuary, the pull was too strong to resist.
Here’s a snapshot of some work in progress, using a realtime watercolor simulator I’ve been writing in Unity. Some thoughts on what I’m doing here: it turns out I’m not super interested in mimicking reality. But I get really excited about the qualia of real materials, because they kick back at you in such wonderful and unexpected ways. What I seem to be after is a sort of caricature of those phenomena: I want it to give me those feelings, and if it bends the laws of physics, so much the better. Thus, Impossible Paint.
Here in Sargí, Brazil, when it isn’t raining, we get to take a lot of long walks on the beach. One feature we noticed right away were these unusual patterns just on top of the surface: little clusters of wiggly lines made of light sand that contrasted sharply against the dark, damp, compact sand beneath. Some were small and isolated, while others formed dense networks. We wondered out loud: what were these shapes, and where did they come from? Were they the trails of some tiny worm or crustacean? Detritus tossed up from the digging of underground warrens? That was our best guess on the first day. But the shapes were so tiny— barely wider than a few grains of sand— and we never saw any evidence of whatever life we imagined was creating them.
Later in the week, the weather changed, and the shapes changed too. The lines got longer, and they seemed to favor certain directions more than others. In particular, there was a strong breeze blowing up the coast, and the lines were oriented in the direction of the wind. Also there was something vaguely familiar about the way the shapes branched out and meandered, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.