We attended my aunt’s funeral on Tuesday. My complaints about the Mandai Crematorium mostly still stand, but they’ve at least moved the ugly signs printed on office paper away from the viewing windows so you can see the casket on its way to the… furnace?
As I said last week, she was 93 and the family was mostly prepared for this. But there were tears, and some meaningful words were said, and despite my irritation with the undignified air of the Crematorium’s processes, I was struck at a mostly subconscious level with a sense of loss. Because a couple of days later I was thinking about orchids.
Since I was a child, I’ve known orchids to be a part of my family’s story. My paternal grandparents were enthusiastic orchid breeders as well as co-founders of the Mandai Orchid Garden, where they helped raise the profile of Singapore’s orchids at home and abroad. I was surprised to learn while writing this that orchids are still an instrument of Singaporean diplomacy. Although I never had any interest in them myself, my late grandmother is defined in my memory by her fondness of them, and several other relatives (including the aunt who just passed) had hybrids named after them, created by my grandfather.
As mentioned last week, I have been experimenting with generative art and it entered my mind that I could try to simulate orchids — creating infinitely unique flowers and plants in code. Now, this is nothing new. Humans have been trying to reproduce natural processes like botany with algorithms almost as long as we’ve had computers. But the more I thought about bringing millions of digital orchids to life, the more I thought about where they would go after. To create a beginning is to guarantee an end. The result is a digital artwork I’ve called Orchids, Once. and it’s a sort of meditation on impermanence.

You can summon a new orchid into existence, but know that you’ll be the only one who ever sees it. When you leave or reload the page, it’ll be gone. Does the fact that there are potentially billions more make it less special? Or that it cost nothing? Or that it’s not technically “alive”? In any case, I hope people will cherish the brief amount of time they spend with each flower. I didn’t design a “retry” or “new orchid” button because the responsibility of ending a session should rest with the viewer.
Orchids, Once. also stems from the generative music experience I gained while making DataDeck, and features an ambient soundtrack that’s created in real time as the orchids turn and sway in the digital wind, as unique and unrepeatable as the flowers themselves.
I had to work with both Gemini and Claude to get this thing in shape. I didn’t save enough screenshots of the development process, but here are two from the prototyping phase that AI would have you believe were good enough to ship, and that look like orchids.


Many hours of refinement later and I had models that could pass for plants, but had a nasty habit of growing backwards into themselves, or occasionally mutating into unholy jagged messes. I thought they were finally getting somewhere, but then we took a trip to a plant nursery nearby for a little field research. I spent some time looking at dozens of real orchids and taking pictures, and came home with lots of changes to make. I have learnt more about orchid anatomy this week than I had from decades of being in an orchid-breeding family.


I also can’t help but reflect on the past few weeks of making things in code with AI — this only started on March 1, but it feels like months ago. Orchids, Once. is my 10th “app” (but the 9th released).
The first few toyed with pulling data from online sources: Collagen pulled album art from iTunes, Urban Jungles pulled weather data from Open-Meteo, SkySpotter pulled air traffic data from OpenSky.
Then the next few pulled data from online sources and tried to make something new out of them: Library Supercollider mashed up texts from Project Gutenberg, CommonVerse let you play with words from a dictionary, DataDeck generated music from public Singapore data feeds, and Crumbs let you build your own “maps” with location data.
The most recent ones? They’ve been about generating their own assets out of nothing, without drawing on external data: the GenArt wallpaper/image maker I’m still working on, daily 3D mazes to escape from, and these orchids. These shifts weren’t conscious or planned, but it’s curious to look back and notice it.
I’ll stop at 10 for a while, and maybe pick things up again after I get back from my holiday.
One bit of housekeeping: I found the time to revisit my first app, Collagen, and make some improvements I’ve been wanting to see for a while. You can now use images in different aspect ratios, not just squares. And each image can be zoomed and cropped really easily with a new editing overlay. You no longer lose images if you change the grid size, text cells can be edited, and the UI has been given a mild glow up. I feel like I’ve learnt a lot since then, and this v2.0 brings things up to date.

Media activity
My book club finally finished reading Michael Crichton’s Sphere and I gave it three stars on Goodreads. In the end, my vague recollections from reading it as a teenager mostly held, although a slightly racist and sexist worldview permeates the text, and I’m sensitive to how much that would not fly today. I’m eager to see how the film adaptation handles that when we watch it together next week, as it was made a decade later.
The second season of The Pitt ended after 15 episodes and damn I’m going to miss it. This is a show that alerts me to how ignorant I am of certain (most?) social dynamics and other signs people tend to give off.
Speaking of the series in general so I hope this doesn’t spoil anything for anyone, but suicidal ideation is a recurring theme that I didn’t take very seriously — which is the whole point of the show’s handling of it.
I go on Threads after every week’s episode to read people’s takes and interpretations, and I’m always learning something. This week some people got mad that men don’t take this suicide stuff seriously, or can’t see it at all and can’t talk to their friends, and I guess I’m a little guilty of that. I didn’t know the character on the show was thaaaat serious, and thought “eh, they’ll walk it off. It’s no big deal, everyone imagines it sometimes.” Apparently not.
Unintentional death theme continuing: I watched a Japanese film on MUBI: Super Happy Forever (2024). It’s about a widower who goes back to the seaside town where he and his wife met on holiday. It jumps back and forth in time and does a few other things that should yield more emotional impact than it does. I wrote on Letterboxd: I think the ingredients of a proper 4-star movie, the kind you rewatch every five years, are here but not properly assembled. Nairu Yamamoto is so lovely, so magnetic in all of her scenes that she redeems her supremely annoying partner like the best of people do. Shame.








































