0xcd3dbc22…d59fsent to0xdf80ad21…2567·#23,169,202·view on Etherscan
0xCD3dBc22E8AfD3B8a93b2880982B78D6F5d8D59fIn pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away — Yosa Buson
Photography is a system of saving memories. It’s a time machine, in a way, to preserve the memory, to preserve time — Hiroshi Sugimoto
Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future, / And time future contained in time past — T.S. Eliot
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Curated by Copenhagen-based artist Kasper Bergholt, Moons, Castles, Trees is a sub-exhibition of The Wrong Biennale 2025–2026, celebrated as the digital world’s Venice by The New York Times.
Inspired by Nick Cave’s Cinnamon Horses, this open call invites artists globally to explore AI and imagination through still images—photography, poetry, collage, or hybrids. Themes of horses dancing under strawberry moons, wandering castle ruins, or emerging among turpentine trees inspire creative reinterpretation.
The exhibition (November 1, 2025–March 31, 2026) accepts up to six images per artist, free of charge.
Bergholt, returning to art in 2023, offers free Chronotopes Image and Text Packs for remixing, fostering collaborative works.
Up to 30 pieces will be displayed online until 2030, with potential physical showcases.
Open to all, painters, poets, generative artists, this call weaves synthetic realities, resonating with Buson, Sugimoto, Eliot, Dickinson, Bakhtin, and Derrida’s meditations on time, memory, and cultural inscription.
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The Moon is distant from the Sea / And yet, with Amber Hands / She leads Him / docile as a Boy / Along appointed Sands — Emily Dickinson
In the realm of culture, outsideness is a most powerful factor in understanding. It is only in the eyes of another culture that foreign culture reveals itself fully and profoundly — Mikhail Bakhtin
All that gives rise to an inscription in general, whether it is literal or not and even if what it distributes in space is alien to the order of the voice: cinematography, choreography, of course, but also pictorial, musical, sculptural ‘writing’ — Jacques Derrida