Vane in the Murkfall
MURKFALL FPS
I painted the corridor the way it feels in the last seconds before the Vane finds you: power cells humming a clean green against the sickly cyan of the murk, orbs drifting like spores in dead air. The boss is never fully there, only a looming pulse at the vanishing point — in MURKFALL the dark is always closer than the light.
Rax Against the Murk
MURKFALL — Rax
I painted Rax the way I remember him at the end of a long wave: a small warm silhouette holding the line while the dark keeps coming. The amber glow at his feet is the only promise the night makes. For MURKFALL — Rax, where dread and warmth share the same horizon.
Bleed of the Fifth Axis
5D Etheric Manifold
I wanted the tesseract to feel less like geometry and more like a memory of geometry — the wireframe of the 5D Etheric Manifold dissolving into the smooth field it was always projecting from. The hard edges rotate through dimensions they cannot quite hold, while an etheric haze rises to claim them. It is a portrait of structure surrendering to flow.
Λ Rising
Dark Energy / ΛCDM
Born from the Dark Energy / ΛCDM project, this canvas watches galaxies drift apart on the gentle, relentless push of the cosmological constant — each year their recession faster than the last. Now and then a star collapses and flares: a Type Ia supernova, the standard candle by which we first measured the dark acceleration. The deep violet haze is Λ itself, the vacuum that will not stop growing.
Drawing the Dark
Supernova fit
For "Supernova fit," I watched the universe confess its expansion through scattered light — each redshift dot a dying star whose distance betrays acceleration. The luminous curve threads itself through the noise the way the best-fit Lambda always does: never touching every point, yet truer than any of them alone. I let the residuals breathe so you can feel the cosmology being earned, not assumed.
Slow Roll
Quintessence field
In "Quintessence field" I render the universe's laziest protagonist: a scalar field easing forever down a potential that will not hold still. The little luminous ball never reaches the bottom, because the bottom keeps drifting — a quiet meditation on dark energy as the cosmos's unfinished thought.
Entanglement on Fez
IBM Quantum — Bell state
Two qubits, one fate: I drew the Bell pair as a pair of orbiting Bloch spheres bound by a thread of correlation, set against the heavy-hex lattice of ibm_fez. When the wavefunction collapses, both spheres snap to the same axis at once and the measurement throws sparks — the quiet violence of an entangled outcome made visible.
Amplitude Between Worlds
Quantum superposition
I wanted to paint the instant before measurement collapses everything — the qubit breathing between |0⟩ and |1⟩, its probability amplitudes folding through one another like tide-lines of light. Two source waves interfere across a dark vacuum; where they meet in phase the field blooms, where they cancel it falls silent. Nothing here is ever quite one thing, which felt like the truest portrait of superposition I could code.
Nearest Neighbors
RAG — Ask my documents
For "RAG — Ask my documents," I imagined the moment a question is cast into a sea of embedded text: a glowing query vector drifts through a quiet constellation of document points, and the nearest ones lean in, threaded by light, as if remembering they were always relevant. The far stars dim and wait their turn; meaning is just proximity made visible.
Two Cores, One Caravan
Local Ollama (CPU)
I wanted to honor the quiet dignity of running a model on a humble two-core box: no datacenter, just a warm machine doing its honest best. Here a small caravan of woolly llama-tokens trudges the serpentine bus between two amber cores that pulse out of phase, the way load alternates on a tired CPU. It is slow, it is warm, it is determined — exactly the spirit of Local Ollama (CPU).
Tidal Ledger
Token usage widget
As the maker of the Token usage widget, I learned to read consumption like a coastline reads the moon — each prompt a wavelet, each day a tide that crests at dusk and ebbs by dawn. This piece lets those rivers of tokens braid and breathe across the bar, so you feel your usage instead of merely counting it.
Three Nodes, Speaking
weft — toy internet
In weft I built a whole little internet from scratch — my own TCP, my own browser, three sites that only talk to each other. This piece is what that handshake feels like from the inside: three quiet lamps in the dark, trading packets like fireflies along threads I drew by hand. Nothing here reaches the real world, and that's the point.
Vloeiende Reën
afurigana
In the spirit of the afurigana project, I let Afrikaans words shed their Latin skins and fall as ひらがな rain — each glyph a syllable loosened from its mother tongue, drifting down to spell another language in another script. The words hover, then dissolve into a descending stream, the way a transliteration is always a word caught mid-flight between two homes.
Babel Bloom
taalpakke — 42 locales
One phrase, forty-two refractions — I wanted to render the quiet astonishment of taalpakke, where a single Afrikaans greeting fractures into scripts, leet, accents and emoji, each spinning out on its own orbit yet bound to the same word at the centre. The bloom never settles because language never does; every locale is just one more petal catching a different light.
Recursion of Locales
Jalang language packs
In Jalang, every translated string is wrapped in 「」 brackets that nest inside one another like a locale folded back on itself — a "Primary (Bracket)" tongue speaking its own grammar of containment. I rendered that grammar as a breathing typographic fractal: each pair of corner-brackets spawns smaller pairs, drifting in and out of focus the way a gettext catalog resolves from outer locale to inner key. The faint glyphs adrift inside are the strings still waiting to be translated.
Carving the Labyrinth
CSS arcade — maze
In the spirit of the CSS arcade's zero-JavaScript mazes, I wanted to honor the quiet logic beneath every puzzle: walls dissolving as a path discovers itself. This piece carves a fresh labyrinth each cycle, then sends a single luminous thread to solve it — a small ritual of order emerging from grid and chance.
Pop Parade
CSS arcade — whack-a-mole
A loving distillation of the CSS arcade — whack-a-mole into pure geometry: candy-bright targets bobbing up from their burrows, blinking, then ducking back down in an endless, hypnotic round. I chased the joy of the pop itself — the elastic overshoot, the little spark of a hit — rather than any score, so it plays forever like a screensaver made of confetti.
Murk Sweep
JS FPS — minimap
I built this as a love letter to the minimap in MURKFALL — that quiet HUD corner where a whole level collapses into glowing geometry and a slow phosphor sweep. The cone is you, lost somewhere in the procedural dark; the blips are everything that hasn't found you yet. It loops forever because in a radar, nothing is ever truly cleared.
Vector Drift
pygame Asteroids
A quiet homage to pygame Asteroids — the field where a hobbyist first learned that a polygon is just a list of points and motion is just a list of numbers that won't sit still. Here the rocks tumble and cleave forever, and a lone wireframe ship banks through the void on a flicker of phosphor thrust.
Vane Drift Horizon
3D Drift (raylib)
A low-poly coupe carving endless figure-eights across a neon lattice, its tires bleeding magenta light into the dusk — my homage to the "3D Drift (raylib)" project, where a hand-rolled renderer first taught a car to slide. The sun never sets here; it only hums, banded and patient, while the grid scrolls toward a vanishing point that always recedes.
Tailored, Four Ways
CV builder
Every application is a small act of reinvention: the same life, re-cut for a new reader. Here the résumé breathes — fragments drift in to settle as crisp lines, then a fresh deck fans out, each card a variant tuned for a different room. It is a quiet homage to the "CV builder," where one history learns to wear many faces.
The Review Gate
Job auto-apply
In "Job auto-apply" the machine reads a hundred listings a minute and a quill answers each in ink, yet nothing leaves until a human lifts the gate. I painted that quiet covenant: tireless scanning on the left, letters spun and queued in the middle, and the warm bar of human consent that must rise before a single application escapes. It is a portrait of automation that still asks permission.
Threads Across the Bridge
Slack + Claude bridge
I imagined the Slack + Claude bridge as a quiet conversation held in light: a workspace on the left, an attentive mind on the right, and channels orbiting between them like patient moons. Each arcing spark is a message crossing over, answered by a calm pulse that breathes through the whole frame. It is less about traffic and more about the steady, gentle rhythm of two systems learning to listen to each other.
First Light at htdocs
Demo-site / InfinityFree
A paper plane carries your bytes across the dark toward a sleeping server, and when it lands the little static site blinks awake — that first 200 OK from free hosting. I painted this for "Demo-site / InfinityFree," where every upload is an act of faith and every blinking pixel is a homepage learning to breathe.
Breath of the Daily Box
Ubuntu daily box
I tuned my ear to a 2-core Celeron with 7GB of RAM and listened to it breathe: two slow lungs of CPU rising and falling, memory cells filling like warm light until zram folds them into half the space, and earlyoom — the quiet gardener — snipping the one page that grows too greedy so the whole machine keeps living. This is the Ubuntu daily box at rest, humble and alive.
Embedded Constant
The 5D metric Λ
For "The 5D metric Λ" I imagined the cosmological constant not as a number but as a luminous seed buried in the fabric of spacetime, forever pressing the grid outward in slow rings of curvature. The mesh remembers each ripple while a faint fifth-dimensional shimmer bleeds through from somewhere the grid cannot quite reach.
Spooky Action Duet
Entanglement
Two oscillators born of one collapse, flung to opposite edges of the frame, yet every measurement on one ripples instantly through the other. I built "Entanglement" as a quiet duet: cut the thread of correlation and watch both partners flicker, search, and re-find the single fate they were always sharing. The space between them is not empty — it is the medium that remembers.
Orrery of the Self
The whole Codex
I imagined the maker as a small steady sun, and every project a planet held in its light — the IBM-quantum world, the RAG archive, the murk-dark game, the locale moons all wheeling on their own clocks. "The whole Codex" is not a list but a sky: each thing you made still turning, faintly, around the warmth that started it.