I came to this through generative art. In 2024 I was watching what was happening on fxhash — the wave of artists making one-of-one pieces with code, each output unique, the program itself the author. I had spent years buying editions; this was something else. I started learning to code.

I also tried to live with the work I was buying. Generative art lives on screens, and screens are a poor home for it — expensive, glare-prone, and somehow always wrong. So I started printing the pieces I bought. They didn’t survive the translation. The colour was flat, the marks were thin, the wall lost what the screen had. That was a problem I couldn’t unsee.

Around the same time, I was working through the Monroe Institute’s gateway recordings — a structured programme of sound and frequency. I was paying attention to what the sound was doing to perception. Geometric forms were a recurring theme in these sessions. I started drawing them. The more I looked at them, the more I thought about their relationship to sound.

The threads met. The work would be generative — code-authored, one-of-one. The voice would be the seed, a personal frequency rather than a random number. And the technique would be pointillism — discrete marks of ink, executed at computational scale, designed to survive print. The screen would be a step in the process, not the destination.

That was the moment Vox et Forma began.

I am one person, working with care over a long time. I’ve chosen — for now — to remain unnamed. The work should speak first. I’ll speak in time, in conversations rather than announcements.