The Gaze…training a model on myself painting and the paintings
The Gaze…training a model on myself painting and the paintings
I summarized what I’m doing and thinking pretty well in my Instagram post:
Planning the next painting, which will be the reverse of “What We Remember” on the first slide. The next two slides are the start of my digital process to sketch my next painting. One is the literal visual reverse of WWR, which I’ll probably project on my canvas to start.
WWR is about shared memory as vulnerability or a dream with someone else. Like…you saw this, too. It’s like you were there. It’s about the past, but here in the present. Something that feels real until you touch it — and once you do, it’s gone. I lived inside of this painting for months because it’s six by ten feet total and when I wasn’t painting it, I was thinking about it.
The reverse of that (to me) is being watched. A governing eye over a solitary, unshared process. Overcast and dissociative, perhaps. Color-wise, darks and blacks and shadows that I’ve only hinted at in previous work. The underside.
I’ll be training a new AI model too, but instead of on my photos and memories and for sketch builds it will be on me — actively painting, colors, and what I do in the studio that isn’t digital. I paint with emotion and whatever is in my life that day is in the studio with me. A million random choices that are informed but not controlled by just knowing how to paint. Will that change by being watched and recorded? Is that any different than being watched and judged as a woman? It could be the same. What happens when the emotion is stripped but creation still happens, which is what happens afterward? I’ll be using the model to create “other” — half-lives of my paintings, starting with this one.
Last slide — algorithmic art “sketch” using all three images and the idea of the gaze and disassociation as a seed, along with time. The real painting and two digital mockups as math, essentially.
The algorithmic art, live on this page (it has controls!), is created from the same algorithmic-art scale I used in Claude.ai for the other AI “other” pieces I’ve done in the past few weeks, while working with Claude for code for work and just generally learning about Claude Code, Cowork, Design, Projects, Skills, Agents…
When I first started coding using HTML, and then added JavaScript and PHP to my skills — all script. Markup languages, which many developers would argue aren’t coding at all. Those are what I know well. I’ve pieced together and fixed everything from ColdFusion to a very long list of languages that don’t really matter anymore. Do I miss the excitement of learning something new and getting something to work? Actually, no, because I still get that with AI and I feel like a manager who was selected from the staff: I know how to do things but my time is better spent organizing those who do it faster and with focused study. It’s a curation job.
It’s strange that I already did this, however, with my Jill of all Trades (this happens a lot to women especially, with ADHD) and technical knowledge born from curiosity and necessity at jobs, not a computer science degree. I’m already used to writing questions in a way to find what I’m looking for from Google to use, and now I’m using that in prompts wrapped in the detailed language of someone who likes to create art with texts.
I started with this prompt and the three images in the post:
Using the three images, the first is the real “What We Remember” hung in a gallery, the second two are mocks for the next painting, which I’ll be recording to train a model and then creating algorithmic art from, eventually creating an agent who posts and creates prompts fro the creations itself — can you make an algorithmic art prototype, using elapsed hours, emotion, and time, and motion. I don’t know what that will look like…I’m just looking for a mockup for my instagram post. There’s an element of being watched, but as a woman…I am always watched, which probably just ended with turning fifty, being out of the male gaze. But women are watched, judged, shamed, and policed the entirety of our lives. I’m not sure if a video watcher will change my idea of that happening, or whether it will make an impact on my painting. Starting from What We Remember and doing the opposite has a futuristic undertone, or maybe it’s about disassociation, which also happens when being watched, at least for me. I remember it all, and I’ve pushed everything away, too, about childhood and my relationships.
…
This is the response, along with the algorithmic art piece:
Looking at the paintings — especially images 3 and 4, where that vortex reads unmistakably as an eye — and everything you’ve described: being watched, dissociation as a survival mechanism, the male gaze ending, memory and erasure. The algorithm writes itself from that.
Three competing systems: gestural crimson energy (the body, the ground), blue particles spiraling into the eye (the gaze pulling inward), and dissociation particles that scatter rather than comply. The elapsed hours number determines the ratio. More time = more dissociation = less captured by the eye.
Ran 2 commands, read a file
Ran 2 commands, read a file
The Gaze — three competing systems, all sourced from the new paintings:
Crimson gestural agents sweep diagonally from the lower register — the body’s energy, the painting’s ground. Blue particles spiral into the eye vortex at right-center (directly echoing that vortex in images 3/4, which reads so clearly as a watching eye). Dissociated particles scatter and drift — resisting the pull, the learned response to surveillance.
The hours number drives the system’s state. Try the seed ranges:
- 720 → acute: 82% compliance, the eye pulls hard
- 7917 → dissociation active: 38% compliance, scatter dominant
- 25000+ → past the gaze: 5% compliance, almost free
The yellow orb sits left-of-center (the other painting’s luminous form) — a second attractor that doesn’t watch. Just holds light.
For the Instagram mockup, download a frame at whatever hours number feels right for the new piece’s title. The eye that watches is there in the code the same way it’s there in your painting — not explained, just present.




