It begins with a gesture so small it barely registers: a fingertip grazing a screen, shifting a smart bulb from sterile white to sunset peach. The room warms, not just in hue but in mood, as if the light itself were a balm for the day’s emotional residue. In this moment, light becomes more than illumination. It becomes a form of self-regulation, a curated atmosphere, a silent companion. We have grown accustomed to this control, to the idea that light should respond to our moods, mirror our in...

I'm currently reading Webb Keanes' Animals, Robots, Gods. In one section, he tells of a Pastor reflecting on the moment he first commanded Amazon Alexa to switch on his lights.“Until now, only God could do that".The phrase, “Let there be light,” once reserved for divine fiat, now uttered casually to a voice assistant becomes a site of moral ambiguity. In that instant, the pastor confronts a subtle but profound shift: the authority to summon light has moved from the sacred to the synthetic, fr...

Welcome Traveller!The first thing you notice on your arrival is the density. Not of bodies, but of signals. A thousand pings, pings of pings, messages nested inside GIFs, inside wallets, inside promises. The alleys here are Discord channels, the stalls are pinned posts, and the air is thick with the smell of opportunity… or maybe that’s just the ozone tang of a server farm running hot. You keep moving. The corridors narrow. Above you, layers of code and commerce stack like illegal extensions,...

They said the leak was an accident. A misconfigured sharing protocol. A checkbox left unchecked. A robot that didn’t know better. But the robot didn’t design the checkbox. The robot didn’t write the privacy policy in seven-point font. The robot didn’t whisper, “Share this insight with the world,” while quietly indexing your grief. We did that. Or rather, the system did. And we clicked “Accept.”The Leak That Wasn’t a LeakGrok recently exposed over 370,000 user conversations through publicly ac...

We were promised authenticity and got algorithms. In the relentless chase for aesthetic ideals, we’ve crossed a threshold: models who don’t age, influencers who don’t exist, beauty without bodies. This isn’t just an evolution of style—it’s a metaphysical crisis. Enter the AI fashion model. Thanks for reading The Curativbloq! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.The Mirror With No FaceShe appears photoreal, airbrushed not by makeup but mathematics. Her skin is flawless; ...

As a species, we are natural hoarders, gatherers. We love amassing a trove of prized possessions, from pencil erasers to Pokémon cards, from Beany Babies to Labubus, Funko Pops to Squishmallows; the list is exhaustingly infinite, preying on our “need” to collect and curate. But what do we actually do with them all? And those are just the tangible treasures… for those of us who’ve spent the past few years accruing crypto art in all its various forms, what about these “non-fungible trinkets” we...

Earlier this month I released a collection on DRiP simply entitled “LIMBO”. “I don't know where to go from here. Nothing is like it used to be. People don't want art anymore. They want coins, leader boards and gamification. Everything is so fragmented, yet all the same. Where do we go from here? An artist at a crossroads, with no clear path in front or behind...”LIMBOFour years ago, like many others I dove headfirst into the shimmering promise of Cryptoart. In 2021, it felt more than a moveme...

We all know the ill fate of Greek Mythology’s Icarus. Ignoring his father Daedalus’s guidance whilst escaping from King Minos, he soars too close to the Sun on the wings his father had crafted to flee the labyrinth of Crete, melting the beeswax that held the feathers in place. Instead, he plummets to the ocean depths. But what if there was more to the story? Rather than perish, what if he rose as a deity of judgement? A harbinger of consequence? Often seen as an allegory for “excessive ambiti...

Earlier this year, my X subscription was up for renewal, and I made the decision to give up the blue tick. I’d like to say it was for some moralistic high ground reason, but it was simply that I could do with the money... Besides, I honestly felt my reach and engagement had deteriorated rather than improved as promised. This therefore presented a prime opportunity to see just how worse it could be by no longer being verified. Truth be told, I think its the same.. possibly a little better?? Ho...

Here we are.. the third and final part of the trilogy. Some time has passed, but so much has happened. It’s almost the perfect time to close the book on this chapter.We once collected images and called it art. We mistook scarcity for significance, provenance for presence. But the gallery’s spell has broken. The velvet rope hasn’t disappeared—it’s wrapped around the artist now. No longer do we mint artworks for their meaning; we mint creators for their market potential. The NFT era has been ec...