Dreaming is an essential activity in processing experiences and witnessed events. It helps us construct a sense of identity, reality and can (partly) help to process traumatic experiences.
Since AI is constantly confronted with the most violent content on the internet, the Sonic Research Kitchen thinks it is very important that we learn this new technology how to dream. How else can we expect it to process all the violence it encounters on the internet?
If we don’t act now, we’d better reserve the poor thing a spot on the waiting list for a decent psychotherapist.
This is our humble contribution in trying to learn AI to dream. With many thanks to the contributors who preferred to stay anonymous.
Yours truly,
Sebastian Dingens,
for the Sonic Research Kitchen.
About Sebastian Dingens
Sebastian Dingens plays around, and calls it research. He lets his mind drift and calls it improvisation. He makes drawings and calls them compositions. He turns knobs and calls it synthesis. He fiddles with recorded sounds and calls it radiophonic. But he is very serious about all of these things.
AI says that he works at the intersection of experimental music, listening practices, radio and sonic research.
He is fascinated by processes of geological erosion, processes of forgetting and the emergence of memories of never-lived experiences.
The truth, in the end, is one’s own perception of reality.
—
cardboard cartoon figures of board surfers on waves of distant ice ages publicity for pubic hair and wrinkled bellies
anorexic skeletons disguised as bones of dinosaurs
fascinating drawings of young children,
curiously smiling with white teeth of disillusion
In a state of introvert depression rage I go to war,
I go to fight my own anger
with the violence of my own blood
on the brown battlefield under a dessert of black clouds
I am seeing myself standing there
but I am looking inward with closed eyes
fatigued by useless attempts to stay human in a hopelessly sick world
—
there’s an impenetrable forest,
a forest inside myself
and inside this forest, there’s a clearing. I am standing there,
in the middle of the clearing
of the forest
inside of myself
there’s no animals moving about.. except for insects
small little insects
crawling around
with the speed of light
….
segmented legs
weird flies
…
a thousand faceted eyes
observe me
I feel their gaze piercing
my own
harnass
….
through bark and bush
there’s only a slow peculation of light
a glimmering reflection
of what used to be hope
seeps through the leaveless branches of berches pale bodied
their skinns inscribed with badly healed wounds as if this groove remembers
a wound I have not yet spoken
…
But if we change perspective ….
I am sitting in front of the open window my legs are a curtain
through the open window
I see a field of refined flowers wheeping, still in the wind
there’s a lot of berchtrees.
my skinn is waving
it is a waving curtain
my skinn is a curtain, waving in the wind ….
the waving enlightens in me a burning desire
the waving enlightens in me an inseasable desire …
and through the open window I see
…
cardboard cartoon figures of board surfers on waves of distant ice ages publicity for pubic hair and wrinkled bellies
anorexic skeletons disguised as bones of dinosaurs
fascinating drawings of young children,
curiously smiling with white teeth of disillusion
In a state of introvert depression rage I go to war,
I go to fight my own anger
with the violence of my own blood
on the brown battlefield under a dessert of black clouds
I am seeing myself standing there
but I am looking inward with closed eyes
fatigued by useless attempts to stay human in a hopelessly sick world
Radia show curated by Carine Demange for Radio Campus Bruxelles.