Imagination winks in the shadows, conjuring futures too audacious to be born of wholeness, and Nurture waters these dreams, softening the hard edges of collapse with the gentle insistence of care.
rebuilding what’s been shattered—each step a seed planted in the cracks of ruin.
RUIN is no graveyard; it is the symphony of what was, the silent chorus of decay begging to be heard. Relationality ties us to the ash, while Unmaking is the art of clearing the rubble with sacred hands.
In WILD, I trace the constellations of Wayfinding and Interconnection, weaving a net where no one, no thing, and no place are too small to matter. Here, Liberation emerges, not as a roar, but as a whisper of roots pushing through concrete, and Designing Futures becomes the ancient dance of
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speaking of pardons....
President Biden still has the power to free Indigenous activist Leonard Peltier.
I just posted a whole rant on this. Eager to check out #CosmosIsABlackAesthetic. When does this drop?
“The unmitigated gall”
So another question 4 you: What does planetary care look like to you? What’s your Preferred Dystopia? How would you resurrect the forgotten infrastructures of kinship and care? Follow me for tools 2 reimagine together under the Fyrthyr Star. 🌟✨
#MultispeciesJustice #IndigenousFutures #CareNotControl
Clearly this work is our work. I’m inviting you to join the world-building process. Whether you’re an artist, thinker, coder, gardener, or just someone tired of the same tired scripts, there’s a place for you here. Let’s co-create. 🌍🌿
This matters because a the futures we’re told to imagine are too small. They’re controlled, extractive, and soulless. We need futures that are chimeric, relational, and strange—futures where kinship, sovereignty, and solidarity guide our choices. That’s what the Fyrthyr Star is about.
The cosmology isn’t just an artistic framework—it’s a campaign. Across cities worldwide, we can and will create spaces where urban denizens teleport from fear to care, imagining utopia and preferred dystopias simultaneously. It’s both visionary and grounded, speculative and actionable.
These projects combine speculative storytelling, participatory art, Indigenous futures, and multispecies jurisprudence. Together, they reframe collapse as a space to create, not to fear. They map the pathways from fear-based consciousness to counter-terror imaginaries.
Preferred Dystopias asks: What grows in ruins? What doors open there? It’s not about fearing collapse-it’s about creating within it. Hybrid beings, sovereign collectives, and chimeric worlds emerge from these dystopias, reminding us that even despair can be fertile ground for radical imagination.
Kakáw Kóhic Dékalé gathers us together in speculative play. Imagine a siege on Vatican grounds, led by a Planetary Indigenous Solidarity Force. But it’s not about war—it’s about a multispecies congress where law becomes care, sovereignty becomes belonging, and the future feels possible.
American Alchemy asks: What if geoengineering and alchemy are two sides of the same coin? How can we reimagine planetary-scale interventions as acts of kinship and care rather than control? This is where we learn to compost the extractive ethos of progress into relational ethics.
A world-building initiative built from three intertwined projects:
✨ American Alchemy: A deep dive into transformation and planetary ethics.
✨ Kakáw Kóhic Dékalé: Multispecies congresses for justice and care.
✨ Preferred Dystopias: Art and storytelling in the ruins.
The Fyrthyr Star isn’t just an idea—it’s a process.
Being honest, cities are where imperialist values run rampant and supremacist technologies are manufactured—but they’re also where possibilities for rebellion, relation, and resurgence emerge. My cosmology begins here, in the heart of the city, where collapse and creation collide.
This is my work: an anti-imperialist, anti-speciesist, and anti-supremacist cosmology for our times. I am about the dig— into the buried, forgotten, and castaway infrastructures of care, resurrecting what sustains life, and imagining a new urban form that heals rather than harms.
Question 4 you: What if the city wasn’t just a site of control, extraction, and alienation—but a crucible for planetary care? What if the broken promises of the present could be composted into something radical, relational, and alive? Welcome to The Fyrthyr Star Rescue Cosmology. 🌟
A chance to step into a world built on kinship, solidarity, and care.
What’s your Preferred Dystopia? What would a world of care and kinship look like to you, even in the ruins? Share your thoughts—the future is not just what we inherit, It’s what we imagine, together. I’m all ears… or wings.
This isn’t about giving up on utopia- It’s about finding a future we can live with, a future that refuses the inevitability of domination, a future in which we designed a door for escape if necessary. Collapse is not the end—it’s the clearing.
What does this look like? Imagine biopunk technologies designed for repair, not profit. Communities linked by gestures of care and rituals of protection. A world where human and more-than-human kin work together to hold the future in place.
Preferred Dystopias don’t erase the fractures—they honor them. They transform collapse into rhythm, gesture into ritual, and survival into something more: a way of moving through the world where care becomes the measure of resilience.
In a Preferred Dystopia, the tools of extraction become tools of care. Technology bends toward life, not control. Kinship isn’t a metaphor—it’s a practice that tethers us to land, story, and each other. Even in the wreckage, we can build belonging.
Look around. We already live in fragments, navigating dystopias we didn’t choose. But what if we started designing the ruins we could actually belong to? What if the cracks became openings—places to move, connect, and reimagine?
This isn’t just an idea—it’s a practice. In my work with Field Cosmology and Chimerics, I explore how collapse isn’t the end but a threshold. A messy, generative space where we can craft gestures, stories, and systems that refuse domination.
Don’t give me fragments, you already know what I’m gonna do. I’ll work with those pieces, I’ll make many Designs Out of Ruins (DOORS).
Not all dystopias are created equal. A state-corporate technocracy, with its extractive AI and imperial logics, is not my choice. But an Indigenous biopunk future—where life, care, and ritual guide technology? That’s a dystopia I can live with. That’s preferred.