Nemoris
The word Nemoris comes from the Latin nemus, meaning grove, glade, or sacred wood. But here it suggests something broader and stranger: not a specific place, but the idea of nature as a living, shifting entity. NEMORIS is a meditation on nature, translated through digital means. It begins in the undergrowth: a flicker of sunlight on moss, a flower glistening with dew. From there, it winds through hedgerows and forest paths, where plants jostle for space and everything leans toward the light. The images invite closeness, asking us to sense the slow, feral intelligence of things that grow—and decay. Eventually, a kind of synesthesia emerges. These works do not idealise the natural world—they enter it. This is not a botanical record, but a record of sensation. It is an attempt to see nature more clearly by asking AI to dream it.
As the project unfolds, realism softens into suggestion. At times the work is almost botanical in its precision; at others, it shatters into gestural abstraction—flashes of colour, shards of memory and emotion, a riot of texture clinging to the surface. In this final stage, plants are no longer depicted, but remembered. NEMORIS explores not only wild plants, but also the wildness of the medium itself. What begins as an act of digital observation becomes a meditation on image making—on what it means to create pictures in the age of AI. I am not depicting nature, but translating it—shaping it through digital means, much as a painter would with oils or acrylics.
Though these images resemble photographs or paintings, they are created using generative AI. I do not use paint, brushes, or cameras. My tools are ChatGPT-4o and Flux 1.1 Pro Ultra. Everything relies on prompts: carefully shaped phrases designed to coax form and feeling from a neural network trained on millions of visual artefacts. In this sense, I am painting with words. The AI does not create these images alone. Each one is a collaboration between man and machine—composed, directed, and revised through intuition and intent. What emerges is not random, but authored. These are not photographs, nor traditional paintings, but something in between: images that live in the space between instruction and emergence, rooted in real textures yet filtered through the machine’s ability to hallucinate beauty.
