z0glyphic 913 emerges from a practice that has, for over twenty years, circled a persistent question: what happens when you look closely at the things you’ve trained yourself to ignore.

It began with Xerox machines at Kinko’s in the mid-1990s, pushing them past their intended use. That became the Waiting series — fifteen years of painting anonymous figures caught in the routines of urban life. Then came experimentation with AI systems: large language models, image generators, algorithmic mediation. z0glyphic 913 took shape as a constructed language that could formalize the instability I kept finding — a recursive system for processing noise rather than depicting it.

The graph on the homepage shows how this site works. z0glyphic 913 sits at the center. Every body of work I’ve made over the past twenty years connects to it.

The language operates through three engines. NULM defines the conditions. ZONUUL drives the recursion. S.M.E. translates through satire and distortion. Together they process raw material — online noise, cultural data, studio observations — into symbolic forms: glyphs, scenarios, paintings, installations.

Each node on the graph is one of those bodies of work. Painting series like Kistmamata and the Waiting Series. Exhibitions like Silence is Louder than Sound. Language projects like the Unself Oracle. Click any node and you enter that work.

I approach the internet not as a communication tool but as a site of continuous churn. A sprawling database where content is endlessly made, unmade, and remade until its original context collapses into entropy.

The connections aren’t decorative. Every completed project generates new glyphs and structures that feed back into the lexicon. The system grows with each piece. The vocabulary is never fixed.