Generative Art

Two sketches had been sitting on my desktop for months — separately, doing nothing. One generates rugs: deformed tangram grids, each cell filled with hatching, colors drawn from a random palette, tile edges warped by a slow sine function so the grid breathes instead of sitting still. The other draws mandalas: radial curves that follow the mouse, a handful of parameters controlling how the arms splay and bend and spread.

In Is Generative Art Now Quaint? I ended with a question dressed up as a statement: I’m genuinely curious what’s possible now.

Wherever there is number, there is beauty. Proclus wrote that somewhere between 412 and 485 AD. I’ve been carrying that line around for years. Not because I’m a mathematician—I’m not—but because I feel it. The beauty in numbers. The strange alchemy of turning equations into images.