Hey everyone, I owe you a bit of context and an explanation of what this video is really about

I think it’s been more than ten years since I started using **ORCA**, and it has had an enormous impact on me, both intellectually and artistically\. At some point, it even became an obsession\. I worked with researchers at the University of Nantes to better understand ORCA’s underlying mechanisms and explore how closely its logic relates to the principles of a Turing machine

Over the years, I started pushing ORCA beyond music: using it for robotics, working with metabolic avatars, exploring movement and dance, and experimenting with different ways of thinking through code

For a long time, I’ve been imagining what ORCA could become in a three\-dimensional environment, how its logic could evolve into another dimension, and how the idea of layering could open up new possibilities

But there was another question that kept coming back to me: **what if we could create our own programming language, with its own visual culture, symbols and logic?**

ORCA’s esoteric language was a major inspiration\. It encouraged me to develop my own system of glyphs, drawing inspiration from Opi culture and Japanese kanji. What started as an exploration has gradually grown into a series of interconnected ecosystems, each contributing to the emergence of a new language\.

I strongly believe that one of the most interesting things we can do in creative coding, and perhaps in programming in general, is to invent our own *computational creoles*: hybrid languages that emerge from different cultures, practices and ways of thinking. These languages could open up new possibilities for imagining code, moving beyond established conventions and creating entirely new branches of computational expression.

For me, what you see in this video is deeply connected to ORCA. It is an extension of it, a descendant of it. I can still feel ORCA’s genetic code running through the project, and preserving that connection is extremely important to me.

So, in a way, this is **ORCA in a 3D environment**, evolving through a very specific visual language that will continue to grow and develop over time\.

At the moment, I have more than 800 glyphs in development, and I’m gradually completing and refining the system.

I use ORCA every single day\. It has become a kind of karate or yoga practice for me: a daily discipline through which I train my mind, my intuition and my relationship with code.

And that’s really what this project is about: not abandoning ORCA, but taking the time to understand its DNA, absorb its logic, and let it mutate into something new

. The little lightning bolts you see in the video are simply the connections between the different bangs across the different layers.

One thing I find particularly fascinating when observing a system capable of generating new things on its own is the possibility of looking at its relationships from a different perspective, within a different space. There is something deeply contemplative about watching these systems evolve.

I remember experiencing this feeling years ago, when I was exploring ORCA in a 2D environment as part of my research with the University of Nantes.

Here’s a little anecdote: ORCA allows you to generate random code that continuously generates itself. We conducted experiments to explore what this code might look like over periods of 50 or even 200 years. It was fascinating because, over time, you could begin to perceive something that resembled a form of life — not life in the biological sense, but the evolution of emergent systems. In a way, it reminded me of Conway’s Game of Life.

That experience made me wonder whether it would be possible to create a visual environment that allows us to observe these processes from another dimension, to shift our perspective and move beyond the limitations of a flat, two-dimensional plane.

That’s what I’m trying to explore with this project.

For now, it’s a performance instrument rather than something you can experiment with yourself. But it’s definitely not a project I intend to keep to myself. I’d love to share it at some point, but I need to perform with it first.