Manifesto
Planktos
333 Tokens
Planktos is a generative art collection about the hidden architecture of life: microscopic drifters rendered with the care and scale usually reserved for monuments.
Drifters as monuments
Plankton are some of the smallest and most important beings on Earth. They drift unseen, shaping climates and food webs, holding up entire oceans. Planktos treats them not as background data but as subjects worthy of portraiture.
Each image imagines a single organism — real or composite — presented as if under an impossibly perfect macro lens. Shells become cathedrals of silica. Cilia become crowns of light. Tiny vacuoles and chambers glow like stained glass.
Microscopy as reverence
The collection borrows the visual language of microscopy but leans into tenderness rather than analysis. Backgrounds are simple and deep. Light is careful and directional. Depth of field is shallow, turning water into haze and colour, keeping attention on one drifting form.
There is no clutter, no noise for its own sake. Each disc, spiral, frond and spine is given space to be looked at, the way one might slowly walk around a sculpture in a quiet gallery.
Worlds within worlds
Planktos is interested in scale. At one level, the works are about organisms measured in microns. At another, they read like galaxies, nebulae or distant planets. The same visual structures — rings, halos, radiating lines, clustered points of light — appear at both scales.
The collection invites viewers to move between those readings: from cell to star, from droplet to cosmos, from unnoticed drift to foundational presence.
Code, not specimen jars
Everything in Planktos is generated from code and prompts. There are no scanned slides or captured specimens. Instead, the system is fed a vocabulary of biological and optical ideas and asked to respond.
That means the organisms in Planktos are not literal species but plausible kin: echoes, archetypes, imagined cousins of real plankton. They are meant to evoke the real microscopic world while remaining clearly in the realm of art — faithful to the spirit rather than the catalog.
Taken together, the works form a kind of microcosmic atlas: a map of luminous drifters that could exist, rendered in the language of fine art photography.
Other Collections
Remanence
Remanence is a study of the human face recorded as light over time.
Each work depicts a recognisably human facial form rendered as a sparse spatial point cloud and subjected to long‑exposure spectral recording. Motion across the exposure produces temporal echoes — red‑shift and blue‑shift afterimages that reveal the face at different moments in time.
These are not portraits. They are residual impressions: what remains of form once time, movement, and wavelength have been allowed to interfere.
Dust
Dust is a study in chalk, pigment and breath — abstract forms arranged like quiet mathematics.
Circles, lines and woven geometries drift across soft paper textures, fading at the edges as if they were drawn and erased a hundred times before settling into their final shape. Some pieces feel like blueprints, others like constellations or half-remembered maps, but all of them carry the same powdered calm: the hush of chalk hanging in the air.
Trace
Trace is a study of perception — a hybrid visual language where photographic fragments become architectural diagrams, and linework reveals the hidden structure inside the world.
Each artwork begins with real photographs: textures, objects, architectural details, or natural fragments. These images are arranged as intentional collages — quiet, asymmetric, evocative. Over them, precise linework unfolds: topographic contours, orthographic projections, and geometric extrapolations that reinterpret the photograph’s form.
Trace sits between blueprint and sketchbook, between fine-art print and architectural analysis. It is a dialogue between what is seen and what is understood.