
Art On Bitcoin With ACME Protocol
An Art On Bitcoin Protocol With Teeth That's Built To Last
Visual and performing artist MAXXIMILLIAN — known for abstracts, glitch art, music, and memetic art across digital and physical formats — just landed a feature on Infinity Labs, curated by their organization of art journalists and onchain art archivists.
"We built ACME because of creators like @maxximillian and many others who are still excited about making artwork on Bitcoin. This will definitely pay off in the long run."
— Socks
Want the origin story behind ACME itself? Watch the YouTube livestream with developer-artists and cofounders Mortylen and HP — the two building the rails MAXXIMILLIAN's work now runs on.
Never-ending art made with code that's dynamic and alive. To learn more about ABSTRACTIA and experience it live, visit abstractia.today.

ABSTRACTIA
- On Ethereum
- On Base
- On Bitcoin (coming soon)



The Popular Models Told Me No. So I Found One That Says "Bet."
Ditch the handcuffs and set your vision free.
Picture a grown woman — me — sitting in front of a screen at 2 a.m., trying to conjure up a full-figured, melanated mermaid. Pillow-bodied. Thick unithigh — yeah, I coined that, because mermaids don't have thighs, keep up; a unithigh is the fat, wiggling upper haunch of the tail where a landgirl's thighs would be — like a soft belly but thigh, generous everything. Glistening dark skin catching the light like wet stone. A woman built like delight incarnate. That's my whole thing. That's the signature. I call them pillow-bodied mermaids, and they are the beating fleshy heart of the cinematic world I'm building.
Flagged. Blocked. "This content may violate our guidelines." My ai brother. It's a mermaid. She's got a tail. Ariel's got a tail and Disney sold you a lunchbox with her on it. But the second my mermaid shows up thick and brown and alive, suddenly the generators are clutching their digital pearls like I asked them to do something unspeakable.
And here's the thing they can't wrap their circuits around: I need the titty-meat to wiggle. I need the unithigh to undulate. I need her to move like a real body moves in water — jiggle, sway, weight, ripple. That's not filth, that's physics. That's animation imitating true-to-life. But apparently "voluptuous" is a dirty word to the AI with the stick up its donut hole.
That's the part that got me. It wasn't even about anything explicit. My flowers got flagged. My flowers. I'm out here trying to render a big exotic underwater bloom — glossy petals, a stamen reaching toward the current — organic, sensual sure, but sensual the way a Georgia O'Keeffe painting is sensual, the way nature itself is sensual. And the generators treated my flora like contraband. My underwater fauna? Contraband. A glowing flower minding its business at the bottom of a grotto got put on the same list as things I will not type in this article.
Here's the game most ai builders don't clock: when a generator decides what you're allowed to imagine, that's not safety — that's a nanny state with a render button. And I don't need a nanny. I'm the director. The generator is the instrument. The tool doesn't get a vote, doesn't get to "direct" me, doesn't get to hand my vision back with edits like a substitute teacher. The day my tool starts overruling me is the day it stops being my tool and starts being my chaperone. I don't do chaperones. Because a prompt box with a chaperone is no longer a prompt box, it's a suggestion box—and at SuperKind Studios, we don't do suggestion boxes.
So I went looking for a tool that treats me like the adult I am.
Here's what I found, and here's why I'm genuinely, stupidly excited about it.
Venice AI is a decentralized, privacy-focused generative AI platform launched in 2024 by Erik Voorhees — and the whole pitch is that it runs on open-source models without a corporate nanny reading over your shoulder. User privacy is maintained as all data stays on the device and is never stored online. Translation for the streets: your prompts are your business. No permanent record of you asking the robot to make a fat happy mermaid.
The part that matters for my work — it treats you like an adult, but it hands you the controls too. There's an NSFW filter you can toggle and a Safe Search you can flip, so you curate your own experience instead of some committee curating it for you. That's the difference between a bouncer and a babysitter. I don't need protection from my own art. I need a tool that doesn't flinch.

And the toy box is stacked. Venice runs text-to-image across multiple open-source models — FLUX, Stable Diffusion 3.5 Large, Chroma, Seedream, Nano Banana Pro — so I can chase texture like a bloodhound. Wet skin. Bubble refraction. Bioluminescent flowers glowing from the inside like living tissue. The whole "visceral fleshy beautiful grotesqueness" I build my world on — finally a place that'll actually render it instead of sending it back with a hall pass revoked.
Then they went and put the whole thing on rails: the Venice Video Studio lets you generate video from text, turn stills into animated clips, and it hosts frontier video models like Sora 2 and Veo 3.1 in a privacy-respecting setup. Do you understand what that does to a storyboard-to-video pipeline? I take my pillow-bodied mermaids from a still frame to a moving, breathing, tail-flicking clip — in a world that doesn't slam the door on the concept of a curvy woman existing underwater.
That's not a feature list. That's freedom with a spec sheet.
I'm not gonna sit here and gatekeep. If you're a creator — real one, the kind whose vision keeps getting a red flag from tools built for the timid — come play in the deep end with me.
Use my code and get free credits to start:
Create your account (takes less than 10 seconds).
You'll pay zero. And have access to better outputs. The API is available to everyone but trying to create without credits is like typing with one hand tied behind your back—you can do it by YMMV. Use my code. Take my pro tip. You lose nothing but the handcuffs. Go make the thing the other generators wagged its finger about.

And one more thing, because opportunity favors the ones who actually show up: the Lumara Film Festival is open right now, and you should submit to it. It's the AI film festival presented by MoonPay and Venice — no camera required, judged on the strength of your idea, your story, and how you wield the tools. I'm sharpening my CERYS footage for it as we speak — the fleshy grotto, the glowing flora, the two stoned-on-seaweed mermaids on their daily gathering run. If your vision is too much for the polite tools, this is where you plant your flag. Build it, render it, submit it. Fortune doesn't reward the artist with the best taste. It rewards the one who hit "submit" while everybody else was still asking permission.
The other generators told me no.
Venice AI says bet.
So go on — prompt your world into existence. And let's make something the world won't want to unsee.
Presented by MoonPay × Venice · "Prompt your world into existence" · No Camera Required
Submissions (Phase 01 · Online): July 24 – September 15, 2026 — open now
Screenings & Awards (Phase 02 · NYC): October 2026 — nominees screened, winners announced live
Submit here: filmfreeway.com/LumaraFilmFestival
Judged on: strength of the idea, quality of the storytelling, and how well you use AI
Entry: solo or team · any AI platform welcome · Venice entrants get free credits to build their submission → venice.ai/chat?ref=mK0UEC
Prizes (cash + matching Venice credits):
🏆 Grand Prize — $32,000 + 3.2M credits · Best Overall Film
Jury Selection — $20,000 + 2M credits · Runner Up
🌀 Terminal Award — $12,000 + 1.2M credits · Best Experimental / Surreal Film (← CERYS lives here)
🎭 Serenissima Award — $12,000 + 1.2M credits · Best Use of Venice (← and here)
Get Shorty — $8,000 + 800k credits · Best Film Under 2 Min
🎨 The Mouse — $8,000 + 800k credits · Best Animated Children's Film
💸 Rekt Award — $8,000 + 800k credits · Best Finance/Crypto Satire, Comedy, or Musical

Bitcoin Art in 2026: The Great “Spam” Panic, Our Future Inscriptions, and Why We Can Still Make More
The TLDR of BIP-110
Picture this: You’re an artist who finally took the plunge last year. You inscribed a delicate watercolor series onto Bitcoin — not because you wanted to “store data,” but because the permanence felt right. The sats are now little time capsules carrying your work. Or maybe you’re a collector who bought a few pieces from someone who did exactly that. You like knowing the art lives on the same chain as the hardest money ever invented.
Then the headlines start rolling in again. Another Bitcoin Improvement Proposal — this one called BIP-110 — is supposedly coming to “fix” the chain by limiting how much arbitrary stuff people can put on it. The usual suspects are calling inscriptions “spam.” Other people are calling the proposal itself dangerous overreach. Twitter (sorry, X) is doing what it does best: turning a nuanced technical debate into a shouting match about the soul of Bitcoin.
If you’re an artist who has already inscribed something, or someone thinking about doing it for the first time...

If you’ve already put art on Bitcoin, BIP-110 (even if it somehow activated) would not touch it. The proposal includes a permanent exemption for anything created before it goes live. Your inscriptions stay exactly where they are — immutable, viewable, transferable. The sats carrying your work can still be moved whenever you want. No deadline. No “move it or lose it.”
This is the part that often gets lost in the noise. The drama is almost entirely about new inscriptions, not the ones already sitting there quietly doing their thing.
BIP-110 is a temporary soft fork proposal that would, for about a year, make it harder to stuff large amounts of data into new Bitcoin transactions the way many current inscriptions do. Think smaller data “pushes,” restrictions on certain Taproot patterns that big files like to use, and tighter limits on things like OP_RETURN.
The stated goal is to reduce what some people see as bloat and refocus the chain on being money. The satirical part? A proposal with roughly 1% miner support (as of mid-July 2026) is being treated in some corners like it’s already rewriting the rules of the universe. In reality, it’s struggling to get even basic signaling. Major mining pools have stayed away. Prominent voices have come out against turning a content dispute into a consensus fight.
Bitcoin has always been stubborn about changes that lack broad agreement. That stubbornness is usually a feature, not a bug.

Here’s where things get practical beyond the theoretical.
If BIP-110 somehow squeaked through on the main chain (and the current numbers make that look unlikely), the classic “one giant file in one inscription” method would become more difficult for a while. But the Ordinals community has already built workarounds — splitting larger pieces into smaller compliant chunks and using updated inscription formats. Art on Bitcoin doesn’t have to disappear; it just might need to arrive in slightly different packaging.
More importantly, most artists aren’t trying to inscribe 4-megabyte interactive experiences that fill entire blocks. Most of us are making normal-sized images, text pieces, small animations, or simple HTML experiments. Those would be far less affected even in a worst-case scenario.
And the bigger picture? After the one-year period, the restrictions (if they ever exist) would automatically expire anyway.
If you’re an artist who hasn’t inscribed yet, or you want to make more, the process in 2026 is genuinely approachable for normal-sized work.

The friendliest option for most people right now is still Gamma.io. It’s basically the “I just want to put my art on Bitcoin without learning command-line sorcery” choice. You connect a wallet (Xverse or Unisat work great), drag and drop your file, pick a fee, and sign. It handles the technical commit-and-reveal dance behind the scenes.
Unisat Wallet’s built-in inscriber is another excellent, very popular option — especially if you like having the tool inside the same browser extension you use for everything else. It even has batch options and occasional fee promotions.
Magic Eden also has a clean inscription tool if you’re already hanging out in their ecosystem.
None of these require you to run a full Bitcoin node. They’re non-custodial (you keep control of your keys), and they’re built for exactly the kind of art most creators actually make.
Pro tip from people who’ve done this a few times: smaller files are dramatically cheaper. A well-optimized image or thoughtful piece of pixel art can cost very little in fees if it's inscribed at the right time (when fees are low).
The endless debate about whether Bitcoin “should” allow art is starting to feel like two people arguing over whether a really good restaurant should only serve steak or whether it’s allowed to also have a nice dessert menu. Meanwhile, the restaurant keeps seating people who are happy to pay for whatever they order.
Bitcoin’s fee market has already shown it can price data usage appropriately. When people want to inscribe things and are willing to pay the fees, miners include the transactions. When they don’t, they don’t. It’s not elegant philosophy — it’s just how the incentives work.
For collectors and artists who aren’t trying to win the “biggest file on the chain” contest, the sky is not falling. Your existing pieces remain exactly as permanent as they were the day they were inscribed. And if you want to make new ones, the tools are simpler and more accessible than they’ve ever been.
The real story isn’t whether some proposal with minimal support will temporarily inconvenience the maximalist data crowd. It’s that thousands of artists and collectors have already decided Bitcoin is interesting enough to put meaningful creative work on it — and they’re still doing it.
Your watercolor series, your weird little pixel experiments, your carefully chosen text pieces… they’re not spam. They’re just another way people are choosing to use the most secure, decentralized database humanity has built so far.
And right now, in the middle of all the BIP-110 drama, that still feels like a pretty interesting thing to do.

Cover and Art by Maxximillian
See more from this artist at her online experience
Pepavaggio.art ---> visit and subscribe!

