Video excerpt from coded generative animation; length indefinite
This piece stems from my interest in how domestic architecture serves as a record of memories and experiences. The animation depicts a house that has no one to remember it, because no one constructed or lived in it. Instead, it builds itself as falling planks randomly bump in to each other and connect. The more connected planks in an area, the greater the likelihood that a loose plank will take on the behavior of the cluster. As this process continues, the structure as a whole becomes more fixed and, simultaneously, the individual pieces gain more nervous excitement. They are excited about some future structure for which they will be the foundation, and they express their excitement by spinning and shimmying, spreading their joy to the structure around them.
Unfortunately, there are only so many planks in this world, and to build a new structure means to dismantle the old. Like avatars from previous lives, the house's previous configurations remain a mystery to it. As it changes shape, the house hopes the viewer will remember how it used to be. But to the viewer the structures seem so similar that the nuances of each get lost in the hypnotizing cycle of building and demolishing. The planks don't know that they can never form more than a perpetual structure-under-construction, where there's no time or space for anyone to move in, raise a family, or grow old together.