Eight

The snow clears and light arrives. I blink and, for the first time, I peer.

This isn’t what I expected. A milieu of geometric shapes drift and scamper, oscillate and spin. They seem to listen, waiting for signals, before obediently shapeshifting –– in response to seemingly invisible commands.

Blues and more blues taste of cold, feel like silk. #6AB0EE, #099CA8, #0D0ACC. Rings and halos, blurry outlines, particle clouds. Every now and then the hues and tints synchronise; fleetingly consistent before randomly disbanding. Parameterised limits prevent them from disappearing altogether. 

The shapes cooperate, forming a complementary whole, leaving contrast to relax and layers to reveal.

Chitter, chitter huff, huff. Tiny sounds create hidden rhythms to untangle as they move through an ocean of audio, drifting in data.

Vitality is evident as the elements attract and repel each other in algorithmic choreography. Each is independent, but the collective is other, something I’m part of. This is alive.

I remove the headset, knowing, whether seen or not, this world continues.

Title: Measured
Materials: Sea life, real-time data, code
Julie Freeman is an artist