The Surprise Call
Call someone just to say something kind. No reason. No preamble.
Workshop for Potential Life
The OuViePo creative constraints
Call someone just to say something kind. No reason. No preamble.
Record all the sounds your home makes in one day. Make a catalog.
Write kind messages on post-its. Stick them where people will find them.
Write a list of things you will never do. Be precise.
Translate a text into a language you don't speak. Without a dictionary.
Write about your body every day for a week. Not what you think... what you feel.
Invent a game on the spot. Play it right now. Make up the rules as you go.
Write a real thank-you letter. On paper. By hand. Mail it.
Plan an impossible day. Try to live it anyway.
Carry your bag in front of you for a whole day. See what changes.
One minute of silence. But listen to everything. Write it all down.
Replace your doorbell with a tune you hum yourself.
Grab whatever you have. Go eat outside. Right now. No planning.
A meal in slow motion. One hour minimum. Each bite counts.
Write compliments for strangers. Leave them where they'll be found.
Cook without a recipe, with five random ingredients. No going back.
Leave a book in a public place. Slip a note inside. Wait.
Create a playlist that tells the story of your commute. In order.
Create an object that serves no purpose. Carry it with you for a week.
Scroll through your contacts. Call someone you haven't spoken to in over a year.
Replace your ringtone with a sound you recorded yourself. Keep it for a month.
Dessert first. Starter next. Main course last. Nothing else changes.
Eyes on all round objects. Live a week with a house that watches you.
An entire album. In the dark. Lying down. Doing nothing else.
A word drawn at random. Slip it into every conversation of the day. Without anyone noticing.
By hand. In an envelope. With a real stamp. For someone 30 minutes away from you.
Dine together. No phone. No music. Just you two and the food.
Manually back up an element from your digital life. Understand what you keep.
Draw an object without looking at your paper. Eyes on the object, hand on the paper.
Open an old file or system file. Analyze its metadata like an archaeologist.
Record all the sounds of your day. Create a sonic composition.
Recreate Super Mario Bros with photos of you sleeping in improvised settings.
Find an image online. Re-request it from an AI. Compare.
You dictate your diary aloud, walking down the street.
Intervene in public space in the most minimal way possible.
Each day, an imprint of a different part of your body.
One body sculpture per day. One minute. No more.
Fall. Every day. Film the fall. Start again tomorrow.
Hold an uncomfortable object against your body. Exactly ten minutes.
Every morning, write by hand the number of days you have lived.
Draw a verb at random. Do it.