Once invented, a form becomes difficult to remove from reality.
VECTOR FOLDERS: 72+
RASTER ARCHIVE: PAINTED DESERT
INCEPTION: 1994
EVERYTHING IS IN EVERYTHING
Digital Boîte-en-valise is a three-decade system of folders, versions, images, interfaces and incomplete classifications. Its vector work—72+ folders—is gathered within a primary directory named Yellowstone; its raster work accumulates in a single vast folder named Painted Desert. For long periods, Yellowstone and Painted Desert were kept on separate drives, often separately formatted, preserving not only different file structures but different computational territories. Elsewhere, To Be Overwritten folders retain metadata, abandoned states and version chains rather than resolving them into final works. The folders are porous, the categories contagious. Picasso is an artist. He is also an image, a method, a microchip, a motherboard, code. He appears in the box more than once, under different names, in different states. The Boîte does not contain the work. It is the work’s argument on the nature of digital objects.
The Copy
Machine
1994-OngoingSERIES
The Picasso Problem: Seated Women
Recursion after mastery
Material-apparatus: Painting → Vector • Illustrator • Desktop Icons • High-Resolution Scan • Interface • Microchip / Motherboard Architecture
Condition: Recursive / Distributed
The Picasso Problem: Seated Women treats Picasso less as an individual style than as a recursive system already dispersed through visual culture. Beginning in the 1990s as functional desktop-folder icons, vector copies of Picasso paintings were gradually rebuilt at the scale and complexity of their sources, stroke by stroke and decision by decision, until copying became a form of analysis. The facsimile does not restore the painting; it subjects it to another ontology. Style becomes transferable code: repeated through artists, reproductions, software architectures, interface conventions, microchip structures and other systems of organization. Within the Boîte, Picasso consequently appears not once but repeatedly—as painter, image, method, period, subject and computational structure. The “problem” has no solution because it is not quite a problem. It is the persistence of an artistic intelligence after authorship has ceased to contain it.
SERIES
Machine-Assisted Readymades
Oil ↔ Photo ↔ Photoshop (Beta)
Condition: Ongoing / recursively reopened
Oil on canvas copies of Picasso paintings. The canvas is then deconstructed. For example, Rymanesque undoing — back toward the white, toward the ground before the ground supported meaning. A photograph arrests the work mid-process. Generative expansion extrapolates from the painting's edges into territory neither painter nor painting authorised. Duchamp removed the hand. This work restores it — then removes it again, at a different stage, by a different agent. The readymade here is a painting caught becoming something it did not decide to become.
The System
Before Its Name
1994-OngoingSERIES
Pure Data
Vector • Illustrator ↔ Photoshop
Condition: Ongoing / recursively reopened
The file opened in 1994 is still open. Unflattened, unprinted, still editable: layers toggled like arguments in a conversation that has not concluded. Each version is distinct and neither replaces nor obsoletes its predecessor — the file occupies two moments simultaneously, which is not a property of time but of the digital object's refusal to submit to chronology. Duchamp's note from the dark: the system precedes the name it will eventually be given. The cloud was here before the cloud had a name. Mallarmé's dice throw that does not abolish chance: every version is a cast on a different table in the same constitutive darkness. Discovery begins here, or not at all.
SERIES
Monte Carlo Data-Sets
Vector • Computed ↔ Open Set
Condition: Ongoing / recursively reopened
Stochastic iteration applied not to physics but to the question of what a digital mark might mean when the hand cannot be located. Each run of the simulation is a possible answer. None is final. The dataset accumulates not toward resolution but toward a portrait of the problem itself. The printed output is evidence of one pass, offered under protest.
Je suis /
Je ne suis pas
1994-OngoingSERIES
Je ne suis pas le cahier
Drawings after disappearance
Graphite • Ink • Wash • Paper → Vector • Illustrator • Screen / Print
Condition: Reconstituted / Unflattened
Je ne suis pas le cahier gathers digital facsimiles of lost or unavailable drawings, paintings and works on paper reconstructed through vector tools that simulate the appearance of traditional media. The procedure is deliberately contradictory: marks once made materially are rebuilt as paths, fills, transparencies and editable instructions, retaining the appearance of drawing while changing its ontology. The resulting image is neither restoration nor reproduction. It is a second state of the work, one in which the absent original survives as structure, approximation and memory.
The category sits between two older models of artistic continuity: the working notebook, where ideas remain provisional and capable of generating future directions, and the portable container, where works reappear through reduced, translated or surrogate forms. The digital facsimile combines both conditions. It is at once a place of return and a traveling substitute.
SERIES
MacDrawing / MacPainting
Gesture under computation
Raster • Photoshop 2.5–7.0 • Brush Tool • Wacom tablet/pen ↔ Vector • Illustrator • Align / Distribute • Digital paper surfaces
Condition: Manual ↔ Computational
MacDrawing / MacPainting gathers works in which drawing and painting are reconstructed from inside the logic of the computer rather than simulated through software designed to imitate traditional media. In the raster works, Photoshop’s comparatively austere Brush Tool becomes a deliberate constraint. Avoiding the ready-made painterliness of Fractal Design Painter, gesture is rebuilt through pressure, repetition, digital edge behaviour, opacity, accumulation and the small visual consequences particular to screen-based mark-making. The aim is not to make the computer resemble paint, but to discover what painterliness becomes once the mark is native to the interface.
The vector works approach the same problem from another direction. Here, composition may be generated through alignment, distribution, repetition, scaling and other apparently administrative operations; digital “materials” can include sampled or simulated paper surfaces, converted into editable structures rather than treated as backgrounds. Gesture and calculation cease to be opposites. A hand moves the pen, but the image is equally formed by grids, coordinates, palettes, paths and commands.
The category therefore treats the Macintosh not as a substitute studio, but as a different pictorial apparatus: one in which the hand remains present while the conditions of the mark have changed.
Circulation
& Identity
1994-OngoingSERIES
Fudge / AI XOR
AI • Vector ↔ XOR Logic
Condition: Deferred
XOR returns true when inputs differ, false when identical — refusing both synthesis and simple opposition. The practice built on delay meets the machine built on speed. Something changes. The machine declines to specify which term. The work that emerges is the space of their exclusive difference: the most alive territory in the practice, the least resolved, and the one the work cannot step back from.
From, by, or According to Fudge / AI
Mixed • Hand ↔ Model
Condition: Authorship unresolved
The authorship question made explicit in the title and then left open. Not rhetorical — genuinely unresolved. Some works in this series the machine generated; some the hand made; some emerged from the XOR space where neither claim is accurate. The title is the most honest statement available: the disjunction is the content.
SERIES
Infra-Recent
According to what?
Mixed Recent ↔ Infra-Slim
Condition: Deferred
Infra-Recent occupies an unstable interval. It names work close enough to the present to appear contemporary, yet already displaced by the technical conditions through which it was made. Within the Digital Boîte-en-valise, “recent” does not designate a compartment in an archive—the Boîte is conceived instead as a travelling item, carrying two mobile ontologies: that of the artist and that of the digital object. The artist travels physically, spatially and temporally, but also existentially and metaphysically; the digital object travels differently, as something rewritable, copyable, transferable, versionable and deletable, capable of changing state without necessarily changing identity. Infra-Recent therefore measures not age but transit: the diminishing interval between appearance, revision, displacement and supersession.
The machine intensifies the problem because its present is not ours. It can retrieve, predict, recombine and obsolete at speeds that make human categories such as new, recent and current increasingly provisional. A work may still be arriving for the viewer while already belonging, technically, to a previous condition.
Infra-Recent does not designate the newest work.
Cosmogony
in Transit
1994-OngoingSERIES
Night Driving
Raster ↔ Infra-Slim
Condition: In Transit
All perception is nocturnal. This is not atmosphere — it is Duchamp's epistemological position: we have no language capable of describing reality except, perhaps, Eros. Night Driving works from within that darkness. The macOS interface and application chrome — toolbars, palettes, drop-down menus — are stripped of signifying content and placed against absolute black: structurally present, formally legible, functionally evacuated. The desktop freed from the obligation to work is the Large Glass freed from the obligation to represent — a metaphysical photographic plate receiving whatever light passes through it. The Desktop of Perfect (1994) is the founding sub-series: vector phantom constructions of software chrome, détournements of interfaces with no analog referent in nature. Nostalgia born of the immensity of the Western art canon and the sierras of New Mexico.
Writing
the Painting
1994-OngoingSERIES
Write/Paint
Image written as paint; paint written as image
Vector • Raster • Disk • Screen ↔ Oil • Stencil • Canvas
Condition: Rewritable
Write/Paint détourns the early separation of writing and painting within personal-computer software, a distinction that already contained an unintended prediction: digital pictures were not simply drawn or painted, but written—to memory, to disk, to screen. From the 1990s onward, the category follows this computational ambiguity through works in which the image exists simultaneously as appearance and inscription: vectors, pixels, paths, stored instructions, redraws and mutable file states. After the return to oil painting in 2011, the relation was reversed materially. The words WRITE / PAINT entered paintings as stencilled signs, recalling Johns while turning a software operation back into pigment and surface. Across both registers, writing and painting cease to describe separate activities. The image is written in order to appear; paint becomes inscription; and each remains available to revision by another apparatus.
SERIES
La peinture est morte ! Vive la peinture !
Oil • Canvas • Fractal Design Painter • Raster • Screen • Simulated Media
Condition: Displaced / Still Painting
La peinture est morte ! Vive la peinture ! traces a passage from the rejection of the painter’s studio to the open road, and from there to the digital field. In 1994, working with Fractal Design Painter in a new computer suite at Parsons in New York, painting reappeared as software: “watercolour,” “charcoal,” “oil,” brushes, papers and other inherited media were translated into tools, menus and commands whose computational machinery remained largely invisible behind their use-value as image-making effects. What seemed remarkable was not the fidelity of the simulation, but the apparent absence of doubt surrounding it. A newly invented apparatus was being used to reproduce the signs of older media, as though technological novelty required pictorial continuity. The contradiction became productive. Against the postmodern declaration that painting had exhausted itself, the digital “painting” program revealed another problem: painting was not dead at all, but being rewritten as interface, metaphor and simulation. From this encounter, and from the earlier Discovery of Criticism works, PataPaint began to emerge—not as another emulation of painting, but as a critical apparatus for asking what a digital painting tool might be if it ceased simulating traditionl media. Subsequent Boîte categories, including simulacral painting and related porous series, continue to work inside this displacement: painting survives its own obituary by changing apparatus.
SERIES
After Computation
Gouache • Water- Based ↔ Post-Digital
Condition: Active
Not art made with computers — art made after the fact of computation, in a world the computer has already reorganised. The question is not how to use the tool but what it means to make an image when the image-making apparatus has already processed the entire history of images and offers them back as style-transfer, as prompt, as latent space. Art after computation is art that knows this and continues. The continuation is the argument.
SERIES
Objects of Uncertain Format
Digital • Ontological ↔ The Question on the Desktop
Condition: Active
The strange digital object has no weight, no smell, no temperature. It casts no shadow. It can be in two places simultaneously without being divided. Its deterioration is not gradual — it is catastrophic and total: the file corrupts or it does not. These properties are not limitations; they are a different ontology. This series treats the digital object not as a lesser painting but as a thing with its own nature, its own conditions of existence, its own form of presence — and its own form of disappearance.
Raster • Fractal Design Painter / Adobe Photoshop • 1994–
Condition: Undivided
One giant folder containing raster work accumulated from 1994 onward: Fractal Design Painter 2.0, Photoshop 2.5 and subsequent versions, with Photoshop eventually held at version 7 until the arrival of generative AI. Unlike the vector side of the Boîte, Painted Desert was never systematically subdivided. Images, experiments, versions and residues accumulated together without agreeing upon subjects, periods, series, or quality. The absence of folders became a classification of its own.
The name consequently describes both territory and storage condition. A desert does not organise what enters it; proximity does not establish kinship; things survive beside one another without becoming a collection.
Software versions operate similarly. Photoshop was not continually updated toward an abstract technological present. An instrument remained in use while its particular limits remained useful. When generative AI eventually entered the folder, it did not succeed version 7 so much as encounter objects that had been written under another computational climate.
Painted Desert is therefore not the raster department of the Digital Boîte-en-valise.
It is a taxonomy of, and for, the desert.