Mar . a r s O p i a
@arsopia.bsky.social
Exploring phygital, tactile stories in fiber & code Art,Architecture,Myth & Mathematics
https://bio.site/arsopia
https://bio.site/arsopia
Growing, finding balance…
October 28, 2025 at 1:58 PM
Growing, finding balance…
October 11, 2025 at 10:05 AM
Knots are like breaths repeated. Each loop becomes a quiet return from storm. A pause.
#artThought #fiberart
#artThought #fiberart
September 16, 2025 at 7:06 AM
Knots are like breaths repeated. Each loop becomes a quiet return from storm. A pause.
#artThought #fiberart
#artThought #fiberart
I don’t design forms. I grow them.
September 9, 2025 at 7:23 AM
I don’t design forms. I grow them.
Architectural forms return to life.
Their fibers accumulate into myth, suspended as a quiet whisper.
Their fibers accumulate into myth, suspended as a quiet whisper.
August 13, 2025 at 1:46 PM
Architectural forms return to life.
Their fibers accumulate into myth, suspended as a quiet whisper.
Their fibers accumulate into myth, suspended as a quiet whisper.
“Omnia MUTANTUR, nihil INTERIT.”
“Everything CHANGES, nothing IS LOST.”
OVID, Metamorphoses XV.165
Nothing in the whole world is constant. Everything flows. All takes form and fade. Even flame is always changing. What is, is becoming what was. What was, becomes what will be…
“Everything CHANGES, nothing IS LOST.”
OVID, Metamorphoses XV.165
Nothing in the whole world is constant. Everything flows. All takes form and fade. Even flame is always changing. What is, is becoming what was. What was, becomes what will be…
August 10, 2025 at 1:33 PM
“Omnia MUTANTUR, nihil INTERIT.”
“Everything CHANGES, nothing IS LOST.”
OVID, Metamorphoses XV.165
Nothing in the whole world is constant. Everything flows. All takes form and fade. Even flame is always changing. What is, is becoming what was. What was, becomes what will be…
“Everything CHANGES, nothing IS LOST.”
OVID, Metamorphoses XV.165
Nothing in the whole world is constant. Everything flows. All takes form and fade. Even flame is always changing. What is, is becoming what was. What was, becomes what will be…
Rhythm ≠ Repetition. A form emerges not through control, but through continual becoming.
#creativecoding #codeart
#creativecoding #codeart
August 8, 2025 at 5:37 PM
Rhythm ≠ Repetition. A form emerges not through control, but through continual becoming.
#creativecoding #codeart
#creativecoding #codeart
August 6, 2025 at 12:08 PM
What begins in logic ends in sensation.
August 4, 2025 at 8:29 PM
What begins in logic ends in sensation.
"In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas corpora."
‘I am moved to speak of shapes transformed into new kinds of being.’
Ovid, Metamorphoses I.1
‘I am moved to speak of shapes transformed into new kinds of being.’
Ovid, Metamorphoses I.1
August 2, 2025 at 5:51 PM
"In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas corpora."
‘I am moved to speak of shapes transformed into new kinds of being.’
Ovid, Metamorphoses I.1
‘I am moved to speak of shapes transformed into new kinds of being.’
Ovid, Metamorphoses I.1
Slow work is the space for the old stories to resurface and live again.
August 1, 2025 at 2:13 PM
Slow work is the space for the old stories to resurface and live again.
Beauty doesn't emerge from observation, but in sensing what is unseen.
July 31, 2025 at 6:05 PM
Beauty doesn't emerge from observation, but in sensing what is unseen.
When all the threads are tangled, what follows isn't repair. It's REBIRTH.
July 30, 2025 at 6:38 PM
When all the threads are tangled, what follows isn't repair. It's REBIRTH.
Reposted by Mar . a r s O p i a
I can't afford to forget.
I need to metabolize.
I need to metabolize.
July 29, 2025 at 7:57 PM
I can't afford to forget.
I need to metabolize.
I need to metabolize.
July 28, 2025 at 3:18 PM
When myths break, I trace the threads. Knot the meaning of things unsaid.
July 27, 2025 at 12:07 PM
When myths break, I trace the threads. Knot the meaning of things unsaid.
No permanence. No conclusions.
Just a slow rhythm of what's still becoming.
Just a slow rhythm of what's still becoming.
July 26, 2025 at 8:43 PM
No permanence. No conclusions.
Just a slow rhythm of what's still becoming.
Just a slow rhythm of what's still becoming.
My hands rebel in silence against the pulse of time. Against the scaffolds of belief I once called truth.
July 25, 2025 at 11:57 AM
My hands rebel in silence against the pulse of time. Against the scaffolds of belief I once called truth.
Fiber is an archive of what we thought was left behind.
July 24, 2025 at 1:58 PM
Fiber is an archive of what we thought was left behind.
July 23, 2025 at 11:59 AM
Art is not assembled structure.
Art emerges. Art becomes.
Art emerges. Art becomes.
July 22, 2025 at 4:03 PM
Art is not assembled structure.
Art emerges. Art becomes.
Art emerges. Art becomes.
Myths don't tell stories.
They shape the space for feelings.
They shape the space for feelings.
July 21, 2025 at 8:12 AM
Myths don't tell stories.
They shape the space for feelings.
They shape the space for feelings.
July 20, 2025 at 10:59 AM