Little Walk2026
8’05”
3D animation / AI (Flux.2 klein)
A computer-animated child looks at his phone, on which appears a series of statistically generated images. He names the things he sees and he sees the things he names; as he goes the relationship between prescription and description becomes uncertain. The work explores the construction of realism in the heuristic (traditional computer animation) and stochastic (artificial intelligence) modes, and perhaps the substitution of the former by the latter.
The text, which is both the script and the set of prompts that guide the generation of images, is written by an autocompletion model trained on a literary corpus, drifting from a list of groceries.
| Tomatoes Potatoes Onions Canned goods Black beans and corn Bourbon Flowers Nostalgic french baguette Mushrooms Macaroni salad Magical unknown ingredient A misshapen lump of terror, a soggy and snotty ruin. Spaghetti Cheese (shredded, and plenty of it) Ketchup A meat-scented candle. Beans (fava, or whatever.) Rice Oven-baked eggs (a sun-fried, slow-poached dish of exquisite elegance.) A bag of crumbs Something black Something blue A faint trace of mildew. A lot of used needles. And the smell of beer. Rotten eggs. Mothballs, for the sheets. An unfinished novel, the first draft is beautifully written but takes place in 3 countries over thousands of years and follows countless characters, only one of whom is human. Foul, rotting cabbage. A 12-inch by 7-foot white marble slab A small tussled garden Mildew-drenched mattresses. Muscle cramps from sitting too long at the computer. A new door for the shack. A toothpick Pants that do not quite fit. An inexplicable longing for Tom Selleck. The thought of pizza. The thought of the letter R. The thought of my aunt Rita. The thought of my book. The thought of Tom Hanks. Blades, for my shoulders. Legs to kick around A pair of sneakers. And a small, yellow dog. He ate my lollipops. He killed my birds. He chowed down on my shoes. He drank my whiskey. And now he's dead. Or just sleeping. And my aunt Rita says that the only way to get rid of him is by burying me with him, and then she wants to be the one getting buried. What a crazy family. Carrots (or a reminder of what it was like to eat them) Mushrooms Snot Peanuts A piece of lace. A handful of letters. A Christmas e-card. Knives that are actually scissors. Scissors that are actually knives. New bulbs for the floodlights. Something that reminds you of your wife. Like a phone bill A ring made of jewels of different colors A necklace made of jewels that are all the same color. Something to read. Some dirt to fill the drawers. Various bills: Phone bill with 300$ worth of added charges Water bill (high usage by a mischievous cat) Gasbill A reminder from a landlord that you need to pay rent by tomorrow An eviction notice A fine for obstructing traffic (you drove in the opposite direction when an officer's lights flashed, turning right at the very moment your red light turned yellow) A utilities bill with 2000$ worth of charges and several question marks and exclamation points An eviction notice A little bit of gold An arm to rest on for hours at a time. A small, dark space. A new phone An old phone with a short battery life. A toothpick to measure the smallest things. A mannequin head A broken trapeze Nausea A mannequin torso And to top it all, an evil genie. |