Our canvas is a splotchy grey slab reminiscent of scrubbed concrete. It looks like a floor but if we say it is a wall we are no longer lost inside a high-ceilinged industrial megalopolis navigating labyrinthian stretches of URL wall but outside in an alley slashing spray paint cans is wild strokes by moonlight, aka, the glow of our computer screens. As a user, the freedom to choose the tag that accompanies your lines takes this all one step past digital graffiti. Instead of branding your name in paint, your brand accompanies you everywhere to create a secondary texture to your lines that could be called shading but is closer to concrete poetry. Most users go by the default name Guest, but currently a user named Red and penis are battling it out to see who can Level the Field—my term for when users use heavily weighted strokes to obliterate all other lines and, in a sense, ‘refresh’ the slab—while a few Guests are working together to whirl together swirls of colour into something that looks like a bunch of grapes or a shrub of pubic hair.

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Nothing is permanent but everything coheres. This mash-up of bored strangers creates a chaos that can barely be contained by our available workspace. Every time I have visited the site, the action is basically the same. We are all inclined to scribble wildly and surrender our individual expression to the ever-shifting mess that ensues. I have begun to just sit back and watch the real-time video art that materializes, always aware that when I click out it will be lost forever. And that’s okay. The archive is overrated.

Generally, hearts are very common. As is Leveling the Field. As are phallic names like the after-mentioned penis and I HAVE A BIG DICK. As is language. Images stay within the realm of the symbolic, such as question marks and peace signs. Instead of images, users gravitate towards lines that eventually coalesce into letters. Language acts are integral to the visual scrawl and sensory overload, and perhaps this is why I am drawn to this site, submitted to me by creators Bertie and Matthew. We are not working together to create some intricate exquisite corpse, because that’s not what people feel like—in both senses. Our experience is not able to be represented by anything coherent, but rather throwing your lot, or line, into the void.

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