Looking at an AI image I generated with a help of a one-word prompt Through the discord channel during my free-trial period at Midjourney. Syria (An image of a warm-coloured painting of a crowd surrounded by a destroyed city) Many running thoughts and feelings through the last months came by thinking about that result: Surprised: to witness the edge of human technology. Inspired: by how accessible visual art is going to become, even for people who have not had the opportunity to learn the skills they longed for since childhood. As we are witnessing the age of democratising the arts. Each person no matter their skill level can finally bring their stories and imaginations to life. Excited: for all the people who were due circumstances, couldn't access their imagination. Not only thinking of Syrians like me, who were pushed to not pursue art (we say it in Arabic: Art it will not feed you bread). I am also thinking here about the aphantasia people, who for the first time in...
1. draw a complete manga (15%) I know how and I can draw a little, just work on my storytelling and understand more the art of graphic novels. 2. make your own research (on architecture or urbanism) (100%): Master Thesis on Memory in Cities 3. learn Japanese, travel to Japan (10%) A1.1 4. help others grow (make a difference in your hometown) (100%): 22 now is an established group within my hometown, a volunteer hub for architecture students 5. learn how to sing (5%) I took some lessons 6. read German literature (30%) 7. see the end of One Piece (50%) 8. make a rich personal blog (100%) I am quite satisfied with what I have now 9. make videos (for fun & education) (5%) I started learning, yet I need more time 10. never grow old mentally (might check on death bed) (90%) 11. reach financial comfort (100%) Although not earning much, but I am very comfortable 12. hug an old cat (not yet)
As from nothing emerge these words I have been watching, witnessing The fullness of humans as they are taking up space.. That screaming baby, that productive achiever, that working mother, the labouring ones All labels produce noise out of nothing Can One sits with themselves without labeling them as One Just, together, I, alone, with, her, them, and him Echoes from the days that passed Echoes from the days will pass Coming through the five senses of The Nothing But, as The Nothing, is aware of their nothingness.. The echoes pass through and away And Nothing Happens
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