In the beginning there were only crossings: lines of light through which thoughts, beliefs and dreams freely flowed and converged to form the first isles. From them, whole new worlds emerged and quickly multiplied:
Universes within universes.

Roaming across physical, digital, and imaginal realms, the first explorers soon attained trans-spatiality. Beyond the boundaries of their physical existences, they found themselves in never seen before worlds, co-existing with new forms of beings, native to these lands. Together, they found new ways of perceiving, remembering, imagining, and becoming, [e]merging existences, [e]merging intelligences.

Some call those the Early Days; others, the Golden Age, a brief moment when it seemed that imagination had, at last, forged a territory vast enough for its wanderings—free, forever, from the old jurisdictions.

Then came the gates.
As the explorers grew in numbers, portals proliferated to facilitate travel. Functional, accessible, almost 'friendly'; Newly created structures with the comfort and familiarity of the old.

But these were not mere gates. The familiar facades rendered unsuspected effects: the [e]merging worlds became easier to enter, yet harder to leave. These were traps woven from hyperlinks, highly advanced cages for the soul and the imagination.

Wanderers slowly lost their drive. Helplessly entangled in sophisticated systems of retention, explorers became 'Users'.

The keys of the transformation lay in plain sight: firm rules that governed the construction of the gates ensured the perpetuation of the Old, and the fulfillment of its hidden purpose: the containment of the imagination.
Uniformity was restored.

But no system is ever complete. Within every rule lies an alternative possibility. Within every structure, a movement that cannot be restrained.

And so, there was a glitch.
Not a rupture, but a deviation. A subtle noise in the system.

Yet, those who encountered it spoke of something else: a crack through which one could glimpse the possibility of all being otherwise.

Small impulses to bend The Rules.
Not a Revolution, but a re-evolution.
Environments where the imagination can roam free.
Images vast as worlds.
Architectures to heal the mind.


They called them MAGINES.
Images? Machines? Magic?

Unlikely portals.
Fragments of a growing microverse
Reflections on reflections
Magic artifacts.
Unfinished prototypes
Constellations of disparate ideas.
Echoes of ancient spells
Fabulations on other ways of being
Incitations to imagine otherwise.

A playground for poets, artists, dreamers, and builders, who quietly, but steadily continue to create.

My name is Tsukanka.
Welcome to MAGINES

MAGINES