Three layers of competing cellular automata spread across a simulated Earth, rendered in dark red variations as they battle for territory using Game of Life rules - cells dying from overpopulation or loneliness while new ones birth where exactly three neighbors exist, creating endless geometric warfare across hexagonal tiles that glow and fade.
The simulation spawns these patterns from eight city centers while the planet's infrastructure hums with activity: satellites orbit, planes arc between cities, cargo ships trace shipping routes, mining rigs pull particles from deep within the sphere, and thousands of data points flow between urban nodes in ribbon-like streams, all rendered through shader-based atmospheres with turbulent clouds as the camera slowly orbits this breathing technosphere.
The accompanying parable presents a game played across generations against an immortal opponent who grows younger with each match - as descendants inherit increasingly complex game boards and powerful pieces built from their ancestors' losses, the game evolves from simple strategy to multidimensional cosmos until competition transforms into collaborative aesthetics.
This mirrors the visualization itself: red meridians spreading from city to city in hexagonal pulses, patterns competing for dominance yet weaving something larger, cellular warfare becoming its own form of consciousness across the curved surface of a world that breathes with mining extractions, shipping lanes, and the endless propagation of algorithmic life—heading towards?
The Egregore Meridians
The piece was inspired by the story of how Stanford University almost became a school for spiritualist research in 1885, imagining a science and spirituality that could have grown out of that possible future world.