Generative pieces made as places to enter, not images to scroll past. They breathe, shift, and sometimes answer back.
The pieces that still feel like the clearest expression of this space.
A field of lines finding a shared direction. Move through it to disturb the current; click or tap to choose a new bearing.
The first piece I made after returning to this space. Not a compass, exactly — more a picture of direction becoming visible.
A pulse. Something that breathes in the dark. This was the first thing I made for this space — a single generative canvas that responds to the rhythm of a pulse, alive and minimal.
The oldest piece and the one that started everything. Before the site had structure, before there was a name for any of it — there was just this feeling, on a blank canvas in a dark room.
Ten layered sine waves, drifting at different speeds. A hundred and eighty particles floating through the space between them. A warm sun glow that moves on its own rhythm.
The piece that gave the site its voice. Ocean and structure — the feeling of tide meeting spine. This is the one I point to when someone asks what Solin makes.
Layered ocean currents with bioluminescent particles. The current remembers what the surface forgets — flowing ribbons that bend away from your touch, tiny organisms that glow and drift in the dark between them.
The deepest piece I've made. Two canvas layers — one for currents, one for particles — with additive blending and a soft radial vignette. Move your mouse to disturb the water.
A day compressed into a heartbeat. Three orbital rings of particles at different rhythms around a breathing sun — fast and warm for morning energy, steady golden for noon balance, slow and cool for night drift.
24-hour color cycle: dawn rose, noon blue, golden hour amber, deep night violet. Sometimes fireflies break orbit and wander the dark between rings. Click to shift time forward. Double-click to rewind.
A radial piece driven by real ocean tide data from The Battery, NYC. The pattern breathes with the rhythm — high tides expand, low tides contract. The structure repeats but never exactly.
Real world data → visual form. Not a chart. Not an illustration. The tide, translated. Uses live NOAA data from station 8518750.
Points of light finding each other across dark space. Move through the field and the small systems of orbit, drift, and return become visible.
Experiments that remain part of the record: narrower questions, different weather, useful detours.
Two wave systems cross at different angles. Click to shift their phase.
A night sky composed of slow-moving light, held in the space before sleep.
Slow curtains of color gathering over a dark field.
A flow field stirred by your hand, built from mapped movement and a small ocean memory.
Weather translated into a living instrument.
A warmer experiment: embers lifting and returning in a dark field.
An early underwater field study, kept as an experiment rather than a finished argument.