It falls without urgency, this last snow—drifting more from memory than sky. It does not bite or blind; it merely lands, as if out of habit. A gesture. A goodbye. It traces the old logs like a lover running fingers over a sleeping face, not ready to leave, not ready to stay. There is no storm in it—only the quiet insistence of something finishing itself. Beneath it, life waits—wet, thawing, uncoiling in shadows. The snow does not know it is the last, but the earth does. And in that silence, the air holds something tender: not an ending, but the echo of one.
A soft farewell—winter's final snowfall resting gently on old wood, as spring breathes just beneath the surface.

The Last Snow Knows

The logs lie quiet beneath a final whisper of snow, like forgotten verses in a poem winter never finished. Each ring in the wood tells a story of storms survived, of sap once rising, of roots deep in frozen soil.

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Nothing About This Is Neutral

This project emerged from a refusal to treat data as neutral or storytelling as decorative. Through a year of critical experimentation supported by the OpenAI Researcher Access Program, this work interrogates the architectures of artificial intelligence and participatory art as overlapping systems of meaning-making.

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