"Split: A Slit Experiment" is an AI multimedia poem about the divergence occuring not only in web3 culture but in society in general right now.
Some see AI as the potential savior of humanity while others see it as the destroyer of world.
Some see anonymity in web3 as a blessing to express our true self/selves and live multiple lives, others see it as curse and spreader of scams.
We are always at a point of divergence, and especially now where our action can lead to a spiraling destruction or a place closer to our ideas of utopia.
However, one thing we can all agree on is that we are in over our heads and something needs to change.
My artistic process almost always starts with a concept and a poem. I then close my eyes and imagine the visuals that can help tell a story to match what the poem makes me feel. I then get to work executing on the vision I saw with my eyes closed via a kind of collage / mood board for the work using AI and other mediums as needed (photography, film, illustration, etc.). I then play around with generating audio in the form of reading the poem and accompanying music and soundscape. The last step is often to create the animations that mirror my vision and the audio and keep going until it just feels right and is as close to the vision I imagined as possible.
I would like to thank Joynxyz and Blac.ai for including me in this amazing curation and historic drop and exhibition.
The Full Poem that inspired the work is as follows:
I am many
We are me
Who are you anon?
As we created artificial intelligences to solve all our problems
We all knew the world was seemingly falling apart around us
And we hoped with all our might that something would come to save us
Because we were in over our heads
Discovering the vastness and the minuscule thing
That we
Are.
I could see in all our eyes an escape to the inside
In a collective feverish state
The smiles
Burying horror
The commute a way to get away
Moving moving
But always standing still
The job a way to be productive
Ignore the man who lost his mind on the streets
The child huffing glue to stave off hunger
Wondering what is left to believe in
What is left to fight for
Wondering if
There is more to life than living
And dying
On the propelling mud ball
Spinning out of control.
Everyone yelling at the top of their lungs
Where do we go from here?
The grifting
Scamming
The clawing to the top
Only to find a cliff
Into an abyss
Where all that is left
Are artists
And their piles
Of art.