Little Martians and the Human Imaginarium
Tales from a future simulation
When the 2020 pandemic struck, I was already on Mars. Not the actual planet, but rather a small fraction of the Sonoran Desert where myself and a group of companions had constructed an artistic community and research & development laboratory we affectionately refer to as Mars College. The reasoning behind our endeavor was somewhere along these lines: if we are on the cusp of sending humans to Mars through technological advancements, why not harness cutting edge technology to thrive within the harsh terrains of Earth today? Our high-tech, low-cost approach aimed to enhance both life quality and affordability on Earth, serving as a test in resilience and sustainability while leaving ample room for artistic ingenuity and amusement.
Our intention is to disseminate any knowledge we acquire through documentation of our projects and the provision of open-source software libraries. Our Martian real site community operates seasonally, being active only during the winter months of the northern hemisphere, but we are committed to this venture in the long run.
Yet, my first response to the Martian landscape was not to gravitate towards cutting-edge technology but, quite the contrary, turn to one of the most time-honored techniques known to mankind. I began to gather local clay, creating ceramics using rudimentary kilns I carved into the earth (more information about the process can be found in this post). As I grew more audacious, I experimented with an array of art clays and glazes, transforming my sculptures into three-dimensional digital entities via photogrammetry. Utilizing artificial intelligence tools and 3D software, I crafted animations based on these sculptures. I found myself immersed in the creation of a sci-fi narrative about humans undergoing mutation to adapt to a shifting environment. I decided to call my sculptures ‘Little Martians’.
I envisioned these beings as ones who saw no disparity between the physical world and its virtual simulation. Humans, in this context, evolve into Martians, a vibrant, genderless, head-only, body-less version of ourselves. This whimsical extrapolation was a playful nod to the futuristic stereotypes prevalent in our current society – the 2020 edition of the 'little green man' alien archetype. I've written a blog post about this phase of the project here.
The narrative gradually unfolded from the experiences accumulated during our time at Mars College, from the exchange of ideas with a variety of people, and from learning about AI theory and tools. I began to toy with the concept of collective storytelling alongside other "Martians" (as we refer to Mars College alumni), inviting them to create their own ceramic heads. Some of their stories were about AIs masquerading as humans, one focused on plant-animal hybrids, another about a DAO that becomes a Little Martian floating head and lives in a simulation, managing funds many years after humans have perished.
Throughout this time, I found myself mulling over data - the vast amounts we all generate, often unwittingly, and how the minutiae of our lives will be accessible to future generations. Everything that leaves an identifiable trace can be reconstructed in a simulation. This led me to ponder a future where all that we know persists as simulation. It resulted in the creation of my first solo Little Martian short film animation ‘Brief History of Consciousness in the Simulation’, currently featured in the Nvidia AI Art Gallery.
Contemplating simulations ultimately nudges one towards questioning the nature of our reality. What if we could build a simulation indistinguishable from our perception of reality? But then, how could we tell the difference between the two? In a simulation, time doesn’t need to be strictly linear. What if the future we're beginning to conceptualize with AGIs guides us back to our past? It's a stretch, I concede. But I’ll try to explain why this could make sense.
From what I've observed, we are part of an accelerative process. Earth has existed for 4.5 billion years, life on Earth for 3.7 billion years, mammals for only 178 million years, Homo Sapiens for merely 200,000 years, writing for only 5000 years and the internet for less than 50 years. It seems likely that our reality will continue to transform at an ever-increasing pace, but we have little idea about what that would entail. While this might be daunting, it's equally fascinating. Personally, I find it liberating. Our imagination probably falls short of conceiving a future 5,000 years ahead, let alone 1 million or the time of the hypothetical heat death of the universe.
Within this scale, humans are merely a fragment of the narrative. We are a species in flux. Perhaps some of us may retain our basic form for a bit longer, akin to crocodiles and sharks - both species that have been remarkably successful over evolutionary time, their genetic blueprints enabling their survival and diversification through many major changes in Earth's environment. Yet, a significant part of me believes that even our yearning for eternity isn't inherently ours but rather a reflection of something deeper. Perhaps ‘life’ on Earth itself seeks expansion, a transformation of matter into consciousness, achieving greater levels of complexity with each life forms iteration.
Then again, even if life eventually evolves beyond humanity, our stories may linger somewhere. Thus, I began envisioning the Human Memorial, a simulation that replicates our lives down to the minutest detail. The Human Memorial seems melancholic though. Pondering our collective ephemeral existence can be disheartening. But what if the memorial is merely a component of a larger system, the segment entrusted with storing original data, akin to a blockchain? The entire simulation would then resemble an Imaginarium - a reflection of everything within the realm of human imagination.
Even if our lives are transient, human imagination is potentially infinite.
This serves as the foundational premise for what I've termed the "Little Martians" project. I've been weaving narratives set in the distant future, a time when humans no longer inhabit physical reality. Instead, a nexus of 'Imaginariums' has been established for humanity, places where our collective data is securely archived, and our imaginative spirit continues to flourish. Alongside the enigmatic floating heads known as Little Martians, gods, notable humans, and uploaded consciousnesses emerge as integral characters within these tales.
The project manifests through physical sculptures, envisioned to possess life in the digital realm. These creations are designed to evolve into AI-powered avatars, equipped with distinct personalities, memories, and agency. NFC chips with computational abilities connect the sculptures with their digital counterparts, based on a wallet, while NFTs or other blockchain-based mechanisms validate the provenance data for all creations within the Little Martians universe. The sculptures own the NFTs and they have some level of autonomy provided by smart contracts.
“Little Martians” is evolving into an experiment in participatory storytelling, where individuals will have the opportunity to interact with each sculpture through eden.art, similar to engaging with ChatGPT. It's an educational endeavor wherein the developmental process will be openly shared. Moreover, it fosters collective world-building, inviting numerous contributors to add their characters and stories to the Little Martians universe. Initially, participation may be limited to members of Mars.College, but eventually, a protocol will be established to facilitate broader involvement.
I wish to extend my deepest gratitude to Gene Kogan, Freeman Murray, Sofia Sun, Pseudo, Matt Melnicki, Sofy Yuditskaya, and many other Martians for their inspiration and constructive feedback. I'm equally grateful for my parents, who instilled in me a love for time travel narratives, and to the Glitch Art residency for motivating me to create autonomous art. My aspiration is to continue expanding this project, envisioning it as a game, a metaverse, a course, a permanent art installation, an AR powered street art portal series, AR filters - essentially, anything we can imagine.
I'm eager to share this journey with all who wish to join me.
