Have you ever heard the word cazimi? It’s not one you come across every day, yet its meaning carries a poetic resonance that feels deeply aligned with the creative journey. In astrology, cazimi describes a rare and powerful phenomenon. When a planet is "in cazimi," it is within 17 arc minutes of the Sun—a precariously close alignment that places it right in the heart of the Sun. For a brief moment, instead of being overpowered by the Sun’s intense energy, the planet is strengthened, bathed in clarity and focus.

For me, In Cazimi is more than an astrological term. It’s a metaphor for the act of creating, of venturing into the unknown, and of discovering something transformative in the process. Creativity, much like being in cazimi, requires us to approach a source of immense power. That source could be inspiration, passion, or the raw potential of an idea. It’s thrilling, yes, but it also carries risks—the risk of getting too close and feeling burned out, lost, or overwhelmed.

When I create, I find myself drawn to this delicate balance. My art lives at the intersection of the mystical and the modern, blending ancient symbols with new technologies like digital illustration and Web3. In many ways, each new project feels like a journey into cazimi. I approach ideas that shine brightly, ideas that demand focus and courage. Will they burn me, or will I find clarity in their glow?

I chose this title for my newsletter because it captures what I hope this space will be: a place to embrace the mystery and intensity of exploration. In Cazimi is about standing at the edge of what we know, leaning into the transformative power of creativity, and sharing that journey—flaws, discoveries, and all.

This metaphor also reminds me that clarity doesn’t last forever. Just as a planet moves out of cazimi, creative insights often slip away, obscured by distractions or doubt. But the beauty of creativity is its cycles. Like the planets, we’re always in motion, always returning to moments of alignment where focus and inspiration meet.

Through this newsletter, I invite you to join me in those moments of alignment. Together, let’s explore the themes that ignite curiosity and uncover the stories waiting to be told. And if we occasionally get too close to the sun? Well, that’s part of the adventure.

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My childhood memories are always either so bright, with almost fluorescent colors, or so muted, like an old movie. I don't trust them to be real, either, they are a conglomeration of dreams, vague synesthesia, images I've seen from photographs... snippets only, often with one clear detail but everything else too bright to see clearly.

These images represent how I remember my younger childhood summers - in the city, poolside or splashing in the street; on the beach, whether traveling with my family in the south of France or close to home at the Delaware beaches; but the locations and imagery blends together in my mind. The blurriness of these images feels like an accurate depiction of what I see in my mind's eye. They don't even remotely look real, especially up close... but why do they feel so real to me?

When I set out to create images to represent my childhood in the 1970s, I wasn’t just reaching into my own memories. Instead, I was interested in seeing how the AI tools I used would tap into and capture imagery from a shared, collective archive—a kaleidoscope of cultural fragments, sensory impressions, and iconic imagery that feels (to me) both deeply personal and universally understood. These images are not literal snapshots of my past; they are dreamlike reconstructions. They exist somewhere between memory and imagination.

I wanted to start at the start. I was born in 1972. The seventies were a distinctive era, brimming with the tactile and the visceral: the shaggy texture of carpets, the bold orange-and-brown palettes of kitchens, the gleam of vinyl records spinning in dimly lit living rooms. These elements, now immortalized as symbols of the time, have taken on lives of their own in the collective consciousness. Even those who never lived through the 70s might feel a pang of recognition when encountering their aesthetic shorthand.

For me, these images serve as a kind of cultural time machine. They evoke not just personal memories but also the cultural landscape in which those memories were formed—television sitcoms with laugh tracks, the static crackle of AM radio, and the kaleidoscopic haze of post-psychedelic visual art. They are less about accuracy and more about a sensory collage that resonates universally, reminding us how our memories are often shaped by the culture we inhabit.

And then there is memory. Which, as we know, is an unreliable narrator. Over time, the edges of our recollections blur, and details become exaggerated, idealized, or even entirely fabricated. This unreliability, however, is where the magic lies. I wanted to lean into this imperfection, distill the feelings of a particular slice of my childhood into surreal, almost mythical compositions. They blend fragments of reality with the dreamlike quality of half-remembered experiences—like the warmth of sunlight filtered through macramé curtains or the muffled sounds of conversation at a family gathering.

These images aren’t meant to be taken as literal representations of my past. Instead, they reflect the way memory distorts and reimagines, creating something that feels more emotionally true than any photograph could capture. They occupy the space between the real and the imagined, mirroring the way we all reconstruct our pasts through a lens of nostalgia.

And then - what makes these images truly powerful is their connection to collective memory—the shared pool of cultural knowledge and imagery that binds us together as a society—and that generative AI is trained on. While the specifics of my childhood may be unique, the visual language of the 70s is deeply embedded in the zeitgeist. This is why these images should resonate even with those who didn’t live through the era: they draw on a collective reservoir of shared experiences and symbols. Through this lens, my invented childhood memories should spark a sense of recognition, even if that recognition is filtered through pop culture or inherited nostalgia rather than lived experience.

NFTs available on Opensea - https://opensea.io/M3th1ld3

What I love about the Mansions is how they each carry a unique energetic flavor—some are fiery and full of movement, others are watery and introspective. Some speak of rebirth, clarity, or triumph, while others hold space for mystery, transition, or communion. The moment I discovered these lunar portals, I felt an instant connection: they offered a structure that was intuitive and cosmic, yet incredibly grounded. I could sense how each one resonated with different parts of the human experience.

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In my NFT art project, I chose to embody each of these 28 Mansions using a different digital art style or aesthetic technique. It was an experiment in both symbolism and visual language. I wasn’t just making pretty images—I was attempting to create vibrational touchstones which might hold more meaning the longer and more often I looked at them. Every artistic decision, from the color palette to the rendering technique, was informed by the energy of the Mansion I was working with. Some pieces called for glitch art to reflect chaos and transformation, others needed soft pastels or photorealistic textures to communicate clarity, serenity, or unity.

For example, I rendered Al Sharatain, the Mansion of New Beginnings and Prosperity, in bright pixel art—a nod to early digital landscapes and the excitement of building something new from scratch. Meanwhile, Al Hanah, which speaks of love and emotional intimacy, emerged through soft 3D vaporwave-style lighting and pastel mist forms. It needed to feel tender, embracing, almost fluid.

Each piece was created as both an image and a ritual. I treated the prompts like moon-phase mantras. Sometimes I worked with them during the actual transit of the mansion. Other times, I used my Moon in Cancer sensitivity to feel into the mansion’s deeper emotional current. As someone whose natal Moon falls in the Mansion of the Sea (Al Tarf), I’m naturally attuned to themes of devotion, nurturing, and emotional protection. This made the entire project incredibly personal—more than a collection, it felt like a cosmological self-portrait.

A big part of this project’s intention was to bridge ancient wisdom with modern art culture. That meant adapting and rephrasing some of the mansion names so they would resonate with contemporary audiences. Traditional titles like "Al Nathrah" or "Al Sa’d al Ahbiyah" are rich and beautiful but unfamiliar to many. So I paired each traditional name with a modern, stylized title like “The Eye of Transformation” or “The Shield of Safety.” This wasn’t about dumbing anything down—it was about making the energy behind these names more immediately accessible and inviting to viewers, collectors, and seekers.

The choice of NFT styles also served this bridge-building purpose. I tapped into everything from pixel art and glitch art to magical realism, fractal generative art, and surreal photorealism. Some pieces used high-contrast anime or illustrative symbolism, while others leaned on soft, flowing abstraction. Each style allowed the underlying themes to shine in their own language—be it clarity, motion, grounding, or awakening.

This journey through the Mansions has been a sacred calendar of sorts—a lunar cycle rendered in modern archetypes. Each artwork became a touchpoint, a visual spell, a devotional icon. The project as a whole became a grimoire of cosmic energies reinterpreted through my lens as an artist attuned to cycles, symbols, and story.

In the end, the 28 Mansions taught me how to listen more deeply. They reminded me that every phase has its purpose, every transit a gift—even the chaotic ones. Through this process, my art became not just a reflection of these lunar mysteries but a portal for others to engage with them too.

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Image Gallery: 28 Mansions of the Moon

Below are the 28 pieces in the series, each inspired by one of the Moon’s Mansions and interpreted through a unique digital art style. Each image will be accompanied by its corresponding modern title and brief visual description (see NFT metadata or exhibit placards for full lore and symbolism).

1. Al Sharatain — The Dawn of Prosperity

2. Al Botein — The Shield of Serenity

3. Al Thurayya — The Cosmic Voyager

4. Al Dabaran — The Throne of Wealth

5. Al Hak’ah — The Blade of Resolution

6. Al Hanah — The Embrace of Unity

7. Al Dhira — The Phoenix of Triumph

8. Al Nathrah — The Eye of Transformation

9. Al Tarf — The Guardian’s Shield

10. Al Jabhah — The Lion’s Crown

11. Al Zubrah — The Merchant’s Fortune

12. Al Sarfah — The Breaking Point

13. Al Awwa — The Bloom of Wisdom

14. Al Simak — The Scale of Harmony

15. Al Ghafr — The Oasis of Renewal

16. Al Jubana — The Dragon’s Roar

17. Al Iklil — The Cosmic Library

18. Al Kalb — The Heart of Power

19. Al Shaulah — The Phoenix’s Release

20. Al Na’am — The Garden of Growth

21. Al Baldah — The Crystal of Clarity

22. Al Sa’d al Dhabih — The Harvest of Light

23. Al Sa’d al Bula — The Circle of Unity

24. Al Sa’d al Su’ud — The Cascade of Fortune

25. Al Sa’d al Ahbiyah — The Shield of Safety

26. Al Fargh al Mukdim — The Path of Safe Passage

27. Al Fargh al Thani — The Sands of Closure

28. Al Risha — The Awakening Spiral

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