“Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley · Ozymandias
Each dish is a world. Life takes hold — it competes, learns, cooperates, and
builds. And every civilisation it raises carries the seed of its own undoing:
it grows past what the land can feed, exhausts the ground beneath it,
and falls. What remains becomes the soil of the next.
Nothing here is scripted. Watch long enough, and the pattern will feel familiar.
How to read the dish
Colour is lineage. Each hue is a distinct species. A patch of one colour is one people; a new colour is a new branch on the tree of life.
Blooms are colonies. Living organisms, branching like bacteria — brighter and more elaborate as they age and grow complex.
Rings are frontiers. A realm's border holds its own people in and rivals out — a wall to be overcome. A strained ring is bursting outward.
Dun clouds are spent soil. Ground a civilisation has consumed to feed its growth — the self-inflicted wound that brings it down.
Faint marks are ruins. The remains of the fallen, layered beneath the living — the soil the next world rises from.
Watch the centre & the top. A dying people leaves a generated emblem and its name at centre; new ages, rising peoples and discoveries are heralded above.
Nothing is scripted — and you can steer it. Open ☰ Panel to follow the tree of life and change the world's speed, seed new life, or apply stressors. Sound is on: an ambient bed that drifts with the world's mood, and a deep gong at every fall.