Lignis
Artificial intelligence has shattered the boundaries between the imagined and the real. These flowers are not flowers, neither are they wood. They are not painted, carved, or photographed. They are synthographs - sculptural hallucinations crafted from data, structured with language, and rendered with an impossible material fidelity. The petals carry the weight of their past, ghosts of colour cling to their edges, and the tension between fragility and permanence is preserved in exquisite detail. The aesthetic is one of controlled entropy: Wabi-Sabi meets the surreal, chance meets craftsmanship. What remains is something tactile, and evocative - an artifact from a world that never existed, yet feels entirely real. C'est une nouvelle réalité.
Where does reality end, and the dream begin? Lignis is born not from forests, but from lines of code; not carved by human hands, but sculpted in the unseen mind of artificial intelligence. And yet, these images carry weight. They possess texture, shadow, depth. They feel real. But what does that even mean? The chair beneath you is real. The world outside your window exists. But does an object need to be physically present to be real? AI asks this question. It also knows the answer.
When we dream, we see, we feel, we experience - but none of it exists in the tangible world. Are these digital sculptures not another kind of dreaming? The truth of Lignis is not in the wood, but in the illusion of wood. Not in the flowers, but in the illusion of flowers. The truth is in the hand that guides the AI, in the mind that envisions what the machine can only approximate. Reality is no longer what we see, or touch - it is what we create. This is not still life. This is a digital wooden hallucination.
