Island (2024) {Artificial Nature}

Artificial ~ Nature

2024-2026

What emerges when human intuition guides computational generation? How do we navigate shared authorship between artist and AI?

Artificial Nature investigates the creative potential of human ~ AI collaboration in spatial design. Through an experimental workflow, abstract hand-drawn sketches become complex architectural forms via generative AI, creating speculative structures that blur traditional boundaries of authorship.

The work begins with deliberately abstract drawings, visual prompts that resist fixed interpretation. Speculative structures emerge from an experimental, visual-coded workflow. In this process, abstract, hand-drawn sketches are transformed into complex spatial forms using a set of generative tools.  The artist then curates, refines, and recontextualizes these outputs, creating an iterative loop between human intention and machine interpretation. The AI operates through pattern recognition and probabilistic generation, while the artist contributes conceptual framing, aesthetic judgment, and curation. Neither party controls the final outcome entirely.

The resulting works exist in the space between categories: digital yet spatial, systematic yet intuitive, authored yet emergent. Proposing new models for creative practice where tools become collaborators, challenging romantic notions of singular artistic vision. Rather than replacing human creativity, AI here functions as an active creative instrument, one that can surprise, suggest, and generate beyond the artist's initial conception while remaining guided by human sensibility and intention.




Animal (2024) {Artificial Nature}

Orpheus (2025)

The walls are not stone.
They hold no weight,
but the air between them has a kind of gravity.

A growing skeleton rising through shadow.
coral finding shape in the dark,
roots climbing toward whatever passes for light.
A lung, learning how to breathe.

There’s no plan to this space.
No measure holds.
It builds and unbuilds itself in the same breath.

Scale means nothing here.
The ribs could be fingers.
They could be towers.

Only those who still dream can enter.
The rest walk through as if through mist,
never noticing the threshold,
never seeing how the noise has gathered into form.

We are inside something still emerging
dust settling into shapes,
chaos beginning to listen to its own rhythm.

And when it dreams.

Whose eyes are open?
Ours, looking in?
Or its, looking out through us?


 


Color and Wind (2024) {Artificial Nature}