_steel and concrete jungle
_colony of ants and bees
_pig roast
_quivering mass of flesh and organs
_abandoned row boats
_melting birds
_grotesque tumor
_literary opium
_injured tree
_closed eyelids
_stemless flowers 
_pomegranate seed
_limpid pool
_rolling clumps

theCONVOLUTEDpassage (intro)

__Convolution refers to a principle in mathematics where a third function is derived by operating two functions in order to determine how a value of one is modified by the other. Convolution in computational imaging can be understood with digital filters where the image output is the convolution between the impulse response and an input signal.

__The convoluted passage is a linear time invariant system ​(LSI), spatially organized like a labyrinth in order to derive a language structure for possible prompt generation. In today's context of increasing AI based tool availability for so-called quick creativity, such a system somehow aims to formalize this process in an attempt to critique the underlying excessive production of art. The input signals (second function) are fed in first before convoluting them with the impulse signals (first function) to device a language model which then generates the prompt. The space is thought of to be homogeneous in nature only making the interaction between the said functions possible irrespective of their temperament, however, over the course of actually visualizing it, the generated images from the language model adds a layer of spatial convolution. The general structure of this LSI system is as follows -

*A series of enclosures (perhaps architectural) stratified one after the other on both, X and Y axis.

*A ground planestretching through the stratified expanse along the horizontal axis in both directions inter-connecting the enclosures like a Renaissance hallway as opposed to a more modern corridor.

*Each enclosure is composed of an input signal generated from a part of the text ’The Year of Passages’ by Reda Bensmaia- now convoluted in relation to its position on X and Y axis (ex. Melting Birds at 3,2 or Grotesque Tumor at 1,1) using derivate functions as impulse signals.

*The X and Y axis are the impulse signals, a fixed parameter elucidating the primary characteristics of the system. In order to hyper-realize the specificity of such a virtual world- derivative functions like Landscape, Interior, Object, Movement and Text are considered as a deconstructed/classified analogy of what a world would essentially consists of, which is then subject to simultaneous addition and multiplication with the input signal in order to determine the degree of convolution.

link to the NEW ART CITY world here

<<text to text>>


part of the text ‘The Year of Passages’ by Reda Bensmaia.

The city is giving birth to my cerebral death, I feel my head airing out its atoms of the great state, I feel my head airing out its atoms of literary opium, and I expose my bare skull to the healing rain...

//<>generated by Sudowrite

The city is giving birth to my cerebral death. It is a <//steel and concrete jungle//>, teeming with humanity, a <//colony of ants and bees//>, the <//smell of their sweat//> and fruit-sweetness mixed with dirt and piss, the sound of their laughter, pounding heels and children playing, <//the taste of their water and soil//>, the color of their crumbling buildings, the texture of their cold, dead hands. Like ovens, sweating out the summer heat, <//like a pig roast//> caught in a rainstorm. It is a pulsing, throbbing, <//quivering mass of flesh and organs//>. The streets and buildings are arteries and capillaries pumping color and flavor into its skin. A million tiny mouths suck at it, each filling with its residue, some spitting it out while others flush it with their waste. Old, rusted, and <//abandoned row boats//> were huddled on the shoreline, like <//melting birds//>, some still dripped dirty river water into the ocean. These boats were left there after the city was destroyed, abandoned and leftover like some kind of <//grotesque tumor//>.

I feel my head airing out its atoms of <//literary opium//> and I expose my bare skull to the healing rain. The clouds above me rushed against the wind and showered me with the blandest of water, which tasted of the earth. As it ran over my scalp, my mind reached a rare, simple state of peace and began to mix with the air in my lungs. The opiate in my head has dissolved and I scratch my scalp with a <//pen-knife//>. As I look up into the sky, rain drips into my eyes and I see the phantom line of an <//injured tree//>. Its trunk, a trunk of words written in the earth, begins to evaporate as if it were made of <//invisible ink//>. The black ink of its fountainhead rains on me, baptizing me in words. I open my mouth and my ears fill with the sound of falling raindrops that thump like rich clusters of words on my <//closed eyelids//>. Lips raw from licking <//stemless flowers//>, I lick my lips and peer into a puddle that has formed under a bench. The reflection of a <//pomegranate seed//> floating in water is suddenly fragmented by droplets of words that glitter like jeweler in a <//limpid pool>>.

<//Rolling clumps//> of my brain rub off on the ground as I release a torrent of photons from the swelling mass in my cranium which slurps up the warm toxic rain. My tongue lolls out as a raging fire build in my skull; my head feels like a boiling <//water-filled balloon//>. I vomit up warm, toxic rain that swirls in pools around my feet as my brain extends out of my ears and rolls around on the ground in slimy, pink clumps.

Lunging from the city like a <//cadaverous tempest//>, I feel my head bursting with the great state, a brainless sack of flesh spewing story after story, only scattering <//literary poppy seeds//> on my aching mind. I ripped my mind open to end the pain.

<<text to poetry>>


generated by Verse-by-Verse


Huddled on the shoreline, like melting birds

Light in my heart.

Brought to my sneer;

Light as a star.


Phantom line of an injured tree

This will be the last you hear from me,

our time has come; we shall depart

silent, blighted

phantom line of an injured tree

a broken mirror on the table, a scarlet body

phantom line of an injured tree

I am but a bleak complexion.


The air was thick with the smell of sweat, a mixture of salt and musk that was both pungent and strangely alluring.

Without taking a step, I could tell there were men and women all around me.

The air was thick with the smell of sweat, a mixture without gender or age.

All around me, the crowd was growing larger and larger.

Standing still in this mass of strangers, I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with their sweat.

The air was thick with the smell of sweat, a mixture that I found both new and familiar.

It was the smell of victory.


generated by Verse-by-Verse


I scratch my scalp with a pen-knife.
Seeking the way I blew past my life.

Soon as it gathered the crayon smoke,
Cold was the ground to a single stroke.


Head feels like a boiling water-filled balloon
Drawn in by a golden shower across the moon.

She put a cloud of violin over a play,
Night over the garden with an emerald grey.

Glitter a yellow flame from the open spaces,
She sees a little curtain before her places.

Heinrich she could put a violin to a play
Hath any music in her drudgery by day.

Clotilde told her like a woman on the stone.
He broke himself in the curtain and kept alone.

Before her heavy eyes, and over the blue floor
Glittered a yellow fire from a distant door.

Heinrich she could put a violin on a play
She dropped a chain of truth on every sake.


Rolling clumps of my brain rub off on the ground,
Smile not with rainbows over every sound!

A strange black procession, with a glittering group,
As my western head upon your eastern banner.

Thanksgiving of our generous thanks shall gather,
Encircle the towering rocks along the south.


generated by Verse-by-Verse


Rrich clusters of words on my closed eyelids
Basin and Port, upon a plumed height,
A white hand stood by me in the night,
Fed with the stain that the sun had hid.


Glitter like jeweler in a limpid pool,
Shaken into roses of a daisy at night,
Creeping, often running toward the opposite school,
I swear I will never leave you without eyesight.

You thought to see me in a delicate doorway,
Making a perfect poem for our brother;
Good meadows will live in a invisible way,
Delicious, a perfect son kisses the mother.


Lips raw from licking stemless flowers,
Went the fair daughter to the home land,
Expressing her celestial powers,
And make a music at the demand.


Words evaporate as if they were made of invisible ink,
Shielding my own heart with timid glance,
Ever with the fond fond troth I ask,
Alone I remain, yet swift to dance.


My head airing out its atoms of literary opium,
Paid no summer but an axiom,
Rich as the onset of some strange trade,
Regard because we should not be played?

She bent as a docile crescent down,
Find for death the apple at the gown,
She went to the storm like a bugle;
A wind like bliss, or a bubble none.


generated by Poem of Quotes


Malignant, fibroid

the center of the tumor

tales of the grotesque.


Flowering, scarlet

fruit of the pomegranate

grain of mustard seed.


Certified, holy

a variety of seeds

sword blades and poppy.

*unmute to go through the MIRO board

*unmute to go through the NEW ART CITY space

<<linear space invariant system ​(prompt generator)>>

input multiplied with impulse signals on both axis - X and Y in order to derive specificity
Impulse Signal *+ Input Signal = Output Signal



visual world




indeterminate object
or the objecthood of the input 01




biological body
figure as opposed to the ground
the whole of the part-to-whole


steel and concrete jungle
colony of ants and bees
smell of sweat
taste of soil
pig roast
quivering mass of flesh and organs
abandoned row boats
melting birds
grotesque tumor
literary opium
injured tree
invisible ink
closed eyelids
stemless flowers
pomegranate seed
limpid pool
rolling clumps
water-filled balloon
cadaverous tempest
literary poppy seeds


ex. LIMPID POOL (reflective, see-through) <DREAMLIKE>


An oppressive LANDSCAPE surrounded by floating dark OBJECTS like jewelers in a limpid pool, <dreamlike>

A deconstructed INTERIOR reflecting itself like jewelers in a limpid pool, <dreamlike>

ex. GROTESQUE TUMOR (deformed, malignant) <MRI SCAN, POINT CLOUD>

An MRI scan of LANDSCAPE with deformed tress like some kind of grotesque tumor.


A <point cloud> representation of a twisted INTERIOR space filled with deformed OBJECT abandoned and leftover like some kind of grotesque tumor.

Architectural drawing of the Linear Space Invariant System

<<text to image>>

© sudhir ambasana/2023