A living artwork keeps developing whether or not you're looking at it.

Most digital art is finished the moment it's rendered. A WY isn't — its next state depends on something no artist controls: what you personally do next.

Development, not decoration

A WY's form isn't cosmetic variation layered over a fixed picture. Its structure — which family of gesture it belongs to, how it's composed on the canvas, how many layers it carries — is computed from real history: how long you were gone, how many times you've returned, whether your return came early or late.

It can't be rushed

There's no button that advances a WY. The only way to see it change is to actually leave and actually come back — the work is indifferent to how much you want to see the next state right now. That patience requirement is deliberate; it's the same patience the piece asks of a museum visitor who returns to a painting years later and notices something new, except here the painting genuinely isn't the same painting anymore.

Every WY is one continuous piece

There's no edition, no series, no duplicate. A WY exists exactly once, tied to the person who began it, and its entire history — arrivals, absences, returns — is part of the piece, not a log kept separately from it.

See the exact mechanics, or the broader generative art ideas WY.GONE draws from.