A browser tool for turning moving images into hot-pink text fields, with the fubby14 site language folded directly into the controls. It treats video like a material you can crop, tune, and reprint as signal.
The output sits somewhere between terminal screen, music visualizer, and tiny glowing relic.
An audio storybook that turns a spoken piece into a slow constellation reader. The page listens with the track, lifting each phrase into the sky as the narration moves forward.
It feels less like a player and more like a small night stage: voice, text, stars, and a path that only appears while you travel it.
A warm browser harp with a Swiss-plain surface: strings, pulse, tempo, octaves, and almost nothing else. The secret is the generative engine improvising underneath it, like a two-handed harpist: left hand rolling chords and walking a bass line while the right hand sings a melody up top.
Both hands stay locked to a chord progression that cycles bar by bar. Push Evolve and the rhythm slowly rewrites itself as it plays, mutating one step at a time so the piece drifts and breathes without ever quite repeating.
A loose field of triangles gathers into a letter without ever fully settling down. It feels like an alphabet specimen caught mid-flight, half signal and half weather.
The pleasure is in the reroll: same idea, different swarm, always a little unstable.
A seed word opens into a measured drawing: circles, marks, and thin lines held in a careful browser-canvas balance. It has the feeling of a machine trying to make a poster by touch.
This is one of the clearest early bridges between form generator and personal publishing system.
A quieter rebuild pass on the Formation Machine idea, moved toward a web-native Three.js object. In this snapshot it reads almost like a studio note left open on the table.
That incompleteness is useful: it shows the return path to an older fubby14 language without pretending the question is finished.
A full Rider-Waite-Smith study table: deck gallery, card views, flashcards, and quiz mode in one practical little reference app. It is less mystical performance and more daily literacy tool.
The point is access: keep the cards close enough that study can happen in small openings.
A bright modular relief where the letter becomes an excuse for stacking color, surface, and shape. It nods toward Bayer without turning into a museum exercise.
The result has a crisp toy-box charge: formal, rerollable, and still a little silly in the right way.
A red planet, a glassy die, and a drag gesture that turns chance into orbit. The piece is a dice toy, but it behaves more like a tiny speculative instrument.
It belongs here because it has a strong little world around a single interaction.
Type a word and the page answers with a small relic: part molecule, part charm, part downloadable image. It makes the input feel personal without making the output sentimental.
This one carries the most direct publishing question: how simple can a shareable art object be?
A restrained alphabet study with Albers as the pressure point: pale field, tactile square, almost no noise. It asks the viewer to slow down enough to notice surface.
In the collection it works as a pause, a clean breath between louder systems.
A small seeded ring, barely more than a gesture, held inside an edition-label interface. It is soft and compact enough to feel like a found mark.
Kept beside sphere study, it becomes part of a tiny shape grammar rather than a standalone declaration.
A seeded globe wrapped in bright gesture and a faint coordinate-grid mood. It takes the same old-live-site controls as circle study and pushes the mark into volume.
The piece feels like a quick world sketch: not a place yet, but already spinning.