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, as seen through an artist’s eyes. It is as much about paint and pixels as it is about plants or trees. At times the work is almost botanical in its precision; at others, it shatters into wild, gestural abstraction—flashes of colour, shards of memory and emotion, a riot of texture clinging to the surface. In this final stage, the countryside is no longer depicted, but remembered. The images invite the viewer to come close, to sense the feral intelligence of things that grow—and decay. They invoke a feeling and are often overwhelming, just like nature herself. Eventually, a kind of synaesthesia emerges: you can almost smell the paint. These works do not idealise the natural world—they enter it. This is not a botanical record, but a record of sensation: an attempt to see nature more clearly by asking AI to dream it.

Nemoris explores not only wild nature, but also the wildness of the medium itself. What begins as an act of digital observation becomes an exploration of what it means to create pictures in the age of artificial intelligence. I am not depicting nature but translating it—shaping it through digital means, much as a painter would with oils or acrylics. The work asks: how can nature be visualised or explained in visual terms? What, in this context, can a painting be? In these images, a painting becomes something weightless: patterns of colour and light, pixels dancing on a screen, destined eventually for transformation into Ultra-HD prints. Once printed, framed, and hung on walls, the images become works of art—less digital, more physical, much more traditional.

Though these works resemble paintings, no paint or brushes are involved in their creation. My tools are ChatGPT-4o and Flux 1.1 Pro Ultra, and everything relies on prompts—carefully crafted 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. The images propose that the artwork, in this context, is less a static object and more a process. These are not random images, nor are they autonomous outputs—they are synthographic constructs, deliberately shaped and curated, existing at the threshold where AI ceases to be a tool and becomes a collaborator. What Nemoris ultimately asks is not only what nature looks like, but how nature—and art—can be thought about.