about my practice

Computational herbalism is a self-constructed contemplative practice. It involves an intimate, observational relationship with nature. It seeks to capture and translate this connection through sequences of precise, rule-based actions. Finding what the rules should be is a core part of the practice.

My approach is grounded in the belief that interpreting organic phenomena through machine-like processes requires a deep, first-hand understanding and a high degree of clarity.

Computational thinking and herbalist teachings operate at opposite ends of how we make sense of the world.

In the conventional sense, computational means using computers or calculations to solve a problem. Here, the term is expanded to describe the act of breaking complex ideas into well-defined logical steps and executing them methodically. Multifaceted experiences are thus transformed into discrete, digestible pieces.

Within computational herbalism, the final artworks emerge through systems (self-authored code, algorithms, and invented procedures) rather than through hand-drawing or painting alone. This often lends the work a structured or patterned feel. The systems do not replace the hand. Instead they work in harmony with it, enhancing its expressive capacity.

I do not use AI in my process. Every tool and piece of code is deliberately designed and built by me. This way, I maintain direct authorship and a traceable connection between my ideas and outcomes.

Herbalism, the second pillar of my work, is the use of plants for practical and therapeutic purposes. Unlike its scientific counterpart botany, which focuses on precise plant anatomy and biological mechanisms, herbalism views plants through a more cultural and spiritual lens.

In situations where the computational can feel dry or sterile, the herbalist mindset draws from a more intuitive mode of understanding. It approaches plants as carriers of sensory and symbolic meaning. It tolerates high levels of ambiguity and embraces lived experiences as valid.

By translating organic encounters into rule-based processes, I am not attempting to copy-paste nature, but to delve deeper into the limits of what can be structured without losing its essence. My work frequently revolves around two questions: What remains when a subjective experience is filtered through logic, and what resists such an analysis?

The computational pillar introduces what I call a productive delay. It interrupts system-one thinking (quick and impulsive) and slows down perception into discrete steps. This deceleration creates space for developing awareness. It reveals how decisions are made, how patterns are noticed, and how the human brain construes meaning from inputs.

Combining the computational and the herbalistic creates a continuous feedback loop between logic and spontaneity. The loop works like this: nature is observed, the impressions are formalized, the process results in an image, and that image, in turn, influences new perceptions.

By switching between observation and construction, intuition and method, the practice forms a ping-pong of thought that I find incredibly productive and stimulating. In this way, computational herbalism is not about plants, nor about code in isolation. It is about the new ideas that emerge via the intersection — the fertile and unexplored space between the botanical and the mechanical.