The journal of Iain S. Thomas.
My son drives me crazyand if his grandparents were alivethey d have more time for him than me. And I d be able to drop him and his sister offwhen I d reached the end of who I can be,when I can t start with loveor patience, and everything comes out wrong. But they re not here. And some days Continue reading The Old Man s Turn
The phrase Deus Ex Machine is derived from the Latin phrase deus ex machina, which means god from the machine. The phrase is often used to describe a sudden, unexpected event that changes the course of a story. The story I d like to tell you, is how my book What Makes Us Human? came into Continue reading God From The Machine
What you see in the animations is a lost fragment of a larger poem, written by the poet Sappho 1500 years ago. What follows in each instance, in bold, was written by the AI, GPT-3 two months ago. This is a project I ve been working on for some time with creative coder and designer, Andreion De Castro, Continue reading Reconstructing The Lost Poems of Sappho
Using the artificial intelligence GPT-3, I have created the first recipe (or prompt) in a series of recipes based around different abstract personalities. This is the output of that recipe called, Someone Who Misses You. GPT-3 wrote this, based off my recipe. When you purchase this, you are purchasing the video, and the recipe as Continue reading Recipe One Someone Who Misses You
My new collection of illustrations, prose and poetry is out there click on one of the images above to RSVP and hear me and Amanda Lovelace, or Nikita Gill talk about it.
In the poem,I want to talk about how blue the sky wasin the middle of the desertand the forged documents on the seat next to methat would get me to my mother’s death bedthough the pandemic road blocksand how quiet the car wasafter I got the call that she’d diedand how the audio book stoppedand Continue reading What I Want The Poem To Do
Recently, I started thinking about who I would call if the world was ending and what I would say to them, and about what I would feel and what I would want to do. Who Do You Call At The End Of The World? is a short collection of poems, aphorisms and texts that only appear Continue reading Who Do You Call At The End Of The World?
Dear You, I’m really and truly excited to be able to (finally) tell you about something I’ve been working on in the background for months. Today is the launch day of Pleasefindthis Art (click here to go straight there) A curated collection of fine-art prints containing lines from my poems, illustrations, patterns and more taken from Continue reading pleasefindthis Art
Late at night I try to make peace with wherever my dead parents are and my father is driving his car forever through the Lake District and the day is crisp and beautiful, no my mother and him and all of us are parked in a car looking out over the sea and we Continue reading Bad Dreams
The first time I met Trista she was late to her own reading, which is to say, we were both doing a reading at the same book shop, together at an Indigo in Toronto, and I began to read my poems extra slowly because even though I had never met this person, I believed that Continue reading The Exquisite Tenderness of Trista Mateer’s When The Stars Wrote Back