Odd Attractor enters the gallery space. It’s empty, but it doesn’t seem to realise that the exhibition doesn’t open until tomorrow. Its many long swivelling tendrils touch the gallery walls tentatively, little suction cups and swirling fractals touch the room as it crosses the threshold. Odd Attractor seems to be a little annoyed and disoriented, but as it walks up to the sunflower photographs “Honies”, a flicker of a smile appears in its many eyes. You meet the gaze of Odd Attractor, and at first you see two little button-shaped dark eyes looking at you. In a matter of seconds, the eyes are multiplied like a kaleidoscope and a pattern of irises like a tarantula appears in a place which seems to be a face.

You know yesterday, I actually took a trip to the sunflower field. I didn’t see you there, and they told me you quit to start vlogging. I heard that it’s a precarious business - but then what isn’t? I’ve been bending over backwards - quite literally. I have been a bit out of sorts lately. Time has felt like it’s melting over backwards into my everyday life, and I am not quite sure which day it is any longer. The days seem to be the same, with tiny tiny variations. They haunt me like beads on a never-ending string of pearls that are more or less the same, but nevertheless quite different. Do you know what I mean, Sunflower? It’s like “Edge of Tomorrow”, but I’m never getting better at this game.

The lifeform slouches closer to a monitor and finally melts on the pile of boxes in front of the video “Sunflower”. Twitchy tendrils extend around Odd Attractor, like a thousand vibrating flagella. Suddenly, a third head appears out of the figure and what seems to be an ear emerges to listen to the voice speaking from the video.

Oh, excuse you, I didn’t see you sitting there! However, as I was saying. I had a date with myself yesterday in the sunflower field. It seems like really hard work photosynthesising like that all the time. The field, I heard from some gossiping bees, has also turned more acidic recently due to a new fertiliser. Fertiliser, rather more like enterpriser, monopoliser! The field conditions are not very good, they say. Sunflower, it really sucks to see that the UV rays have been so unkind to you. I guess in this day and age it’s not so strange. But hey, do you know what I saw on #dermaTok recently? Apparently, retinoids are really good for you. It might even reverse solar exposure damage on your epidermis. This planet’s epidermis has been out of joint for a while too, it makes me anxious just thinking about it. My epidermis has been off too… A new layer appears all the time, before I’ve even shed the last. But hey, things have been a bit weird for me, not like you were asking though.

Odd Attractor sighs sadly and whispers across the room to a series of paintings on the wall. They are of various sizes, large and small, with geometric and organic patterns. Odd Attractor moves closer, peering with its many curious eyes at the mesmerising figures. It seems to be temporarily shaken out of its ennui. A faint boredom had been haunting its tendrils, but at the sight of the sinuous multiplications on the canvases, it audibly giggles.

When I was lounging on my shower curtain next to the sunflower field, I saw the moon. Yes, I know, I should’ve brought a romantic blanket and woven basket, but I just grabbed the first thing at hand. As I looked at the daytime sky and the pale moon, the sky started to softly whirl and twirl into soft geometric shapes. I almost, kind of, felt a bit moved, I suppose? The only fixed thing was the moon, it felt like a benign pin holding the cloud formations in place. Like slow fractals unfolding across the sky. It kind of reminds me of these paintings, don’t you think? I particularly gravitate towards this one, “Hyperboloid Gaze”. After catching up with the field sunflowers and the bees, I found this tiny blade of grass. I peered at it - and it peered back at me! Little beads of sweat were gently rolling across its stem; it was as if I could softly look into its structure. As if it was gently inviting me inside, cell upon cell upon cell... I sat there for many hours just looking at it. Gently edging closer, Odd Attractor moves up against three small-format paintings. “FN Brush Twist”, “FN Shadow Twist” and “FN Double Warp”. Its eyes bulge slightly out of its other head, looking intently and breathing against the canvases. Its tendrils warp and move, mimicking the twists, turns and sinews of these three paintings. A low humming noise emanates from Odd Attractor.

This planet is running out of chronos, I feel. However, I must not succumb to paranoia. On the other hand, perhaps this sense of paranoia that has been haunting me for these last few days amongst these terraforms may be reparative? An act of resistance, a modality of survival? Sunflower, time is running out, and just like a neural network gone rogue - I see that the too-big scenes of Capital and Anthropos have taken hold here. Maybe, but just maybe, we urgently need new stories of terra survival - of stories that multiply and twist and turn in a myriad of chaotic braids and cylinders, just like these paintings. A reverse shock treatment to jolt this story out of its current hegemony, don’t you think?

Odd Attractor begins to softly change colour into a ripple of hues; aureolin, celadon and magenta. Time is starting to run out for the creature, the multi-scalar, interstellar calls for its return. The moment has come for it to depart. Soft droplets begin to emerge out of its crepuscule epidermis. Small at first, growing bigger with each breath. The creature seems to be weeping, large tears in shapeshifting hues. You understand that Odd Attractor is performing cosmosis to leave this space. With every bulb of liquid, the creature disappears more and more from view. A wistful last wisp of a tentacular feeler, and Odd Attractor exits the scene.