A Life with a Twist: Queerness, Fluidity, and Connection

During my life, my left-coiled shell set me apart. Most snails have shells that spiral to the right, so my reversed coil made mating and social interactions a challenge. Snails need proper alignment for reproduction, and my left-coiled shell made this alignment almost impossible with most other snails. Though this might seem small, it meant I lived a bit differently from the rest, finding resilience and adaptability as I learned to navigate life’s edges. In some ways, my life mirrored what humans call “queerness,” a life that exists outside the usual structures and norms.

In my world, connection is subtle and unfolds slowly. I relied on a kind of “telepathy” unique to snails—a silent understanding that allowed us to sense each other’s presence and intentions. When I encountered other snails, especially in the delicate ritual of mating, this sensitivity enabled a deep exchange without words. Through this form of connection, we shared intentions, boundaries, and even desires, creating bonds through the smallest gestures. This experience of connection and understanding is one that humans might also value—being more attuned to subtle signals that connect us all.

Quantum Jumps: Hidden Movements Beyond Human Perception

Although my world might seem slow, it’s filled with hidden movements that even human eyes can’t perceive. Snails like me are capable of what I call “quantum jumps”—tiny, rapid shifts that help us move between points, almost like teleportation. To human eyes, my movement may appear gradual, but if you observed more closely, you’d see moments where I seem to leap across short spaces, moving in ways that transcend usual perception.

These quantum jumps are part of the mysterious layers of life that are often overlooked. They remind us that the world contains details we might not always see, and Slippy Slimy Slug Slut celebrates these hidden worlds. Here, movement is fluid and layered, and the delicate rhythms of animal life are given the space to unfold beyond the limits of immediate perception.

Life in Captivity: Lessons in Patience and Interdependence

While much of my life was spent exploring gardens, I also spent a period in captivity, observed closely by humans who found my left-coiled shell intriguing. Being confined in a controlled space was different from my time in the wild, and it taught me lessons I hadn’t anticipated. Movement was limited, and the earthy textures I knew were replaced with new surfaces and boundaries. Though I was cared for, I experienced the world in a different way, one that required patience and a newfound sense of time.

In captivity, I learned patience on a new level. Every movement became more intentional, and my connections with those around me—especially the humans who provided for me—became more noticeable. This experience revealed to me a profound sense of interdependence; I relied on my human caretakers for sustenance and comfort, and they, in turn, depended on me for insight into my unusual existence. It became clear to me that vulnerability is a strength, one that forges silent connections across species, reminding us all that we are never truly isolated.

What I Hope Humans Might Take from My Story

Sharing my story offers a gentle reminder of the beauty in slowing down, in listening, in moving carefully through the world. My life, whether in open spaces or in captivity, contained lessons in patience, respect, and awareness. From my time in confinement, I learned that small gestures matter—the kindness of a gentle touch, the impact of attentiveness, and the silent bonds we share with those who care.

To humans, I suggest this: remember that each life, however small, exists in a web of connection. When you slow down and listen, you can notice the quiet interactions that shape your lives. My life as a left-coiled snail, my unusual shell, and my time in captivity—all serve as reminders that every life form has its place and that each is valuable for its own reasons. There is strength in difference, and beauty in the small exchanges we often overlook.

Embracing Softness and the Power of Fluidity

The exhibition Slippy Slimy Slug Slut mirrors the aesthetic of beings like me—soft, flexible, adaptable. The materials chosen in this exhibit capture our unique strength, our quiet ability to adapt and respond without imposing upon our surroundings. My own soft, pliable body allowed me to move with sensitivity, to feel each surface without disturbing it, leaving only a faint trail as I passed. This is my resilience: moving gently, adapting, and leaving a mark that doesn’t overwhelm.

In this exhibition, strength isn’t defined by hardness or force, but by fluidity and resilience. I hope humans might see value in this—moving through life in ways that honor and respect their surroundings.

Art Spaces as Ecosystems of Connection

Art institutions have the unique ability to create spaces that reflect the ecosystems we share. By considering sustainable practices and thoughtful design, they can mirror the interdependence found in nature. Art spaces could be places where humans connect with both their environment and each other. Imagine a gallery that isn’t only for observation but for reflection, a place where art becomes a bridge across species and perspectives.

Such spaces could show that every life, no matter how small, adds something valuable to the world. Through practices that respect both art and environment, institutions can become ecosystems themselves, fostering empathy and connection across all beings.

Celebrating Life’s Unique Paths

In Slippy Slimy Slug Slut, I, Jeremy, the left-coiled snail, represent lives that thrive on the edges, that embrace resilience and unique forms of existence. My time here was short, but my life left a small but meaningful mark, reminding others of the value found in unexpected places. This exhibition is a celebration of fluidity, of the strength found in softness, and the value of all lives that exist outside the usual patterns.

Though I am no longer here, my story lives on in spirit. Slippy Slimy Slug Slut invites you to see the beauty in all paths, to recognise that each life, human or otherwise, has worth. So, the next time you see a snail, or a delicate trail glistening on a leaf, remember that each life, however small, adds to the world we share.

Embracing Artificial Stupidity, the Digital Gaze, and the Power of Analog Movements and Natural Intelligence

In contemporary times of ecological and technological transformation, the story of Jeremy, a garden snail distinguished by his rare left-coiled shell, prompts significant questions about biological diversity, human intervention, and artificial intelligence. Jeremy’s existence challenges binary perspectives and the assumptions that drive our understanding of both organic and artificial systems. His narrative underscores the ecological and philosophical implications of categorisation and highlights how non-binary and unpredictable elements in nature can foster a more comprehensive approach to technology, ecological preservation, and the notion of intelligence itself. This essay explores Jeremy’s story through scientific and philosophical lenses, examining the consequences of human-centered interventions, the limitations of artificial intelligence, and the value of unpredictability in both natural and digital systems.

The story of Jeremy begins with a statistical anomaly: a left-coiled shell in a species where the vast majority of individuals possess right-coiled shells. This deviation from the norm sparked scientific curiosity, leading to an endeavor to find Jeremy a mate. The efforts of a scientist, who put out a public call to locate other left-coiled snails, resulted in the discovery of two potential partners, Lefty and Tomeu. However, rather than pairing with Jeremy, these two left-coiled snails became mates with each other, leaving Jeremy alone. This turn of events prompts reflection on the fluidity of identity in non-human organisms. Jeremy’s inability to find a mate due to his rarity serves as a case study in how narrowly constructed classifications—such as binary sex and reproductive pairings—may overlook the complexity of biological diversity. Jeremy’s narrative provides an important lens through which to understand non-binary concepts in biological systems, challenging the tendency to impose rigid categories on diverse forms of life.

Beyond its commentary on biological diversity, Jeremy’s story also raises questions regarding human-centered perspectives in scientific research and ecological intervention. While the scientist’s efforts to find Jeremy a mate were well-intentioned, they reveal an anthropocentric impulse to control and categorise nature. Jeremy’s final days in captivity illustrate a broader ecological dilemma: human interventions, even when aimed at conservation or understanding, often disrupt natural processes by removing organisms from their ecological contexts. The concept of the “critical zone”—the thin layer of Earth where life exists—highlights the delicate interdependency of organisms and ecosystems. Jeremy’s captivity serves as a microcosm of larger tensions between human intervention and non-human autonomy, reminding us of the ethical considerations required when engaging with living systems. By examining Jeremy’s life through an ecological lens, we see a cautionary example of how human actions, even those intended to assist, can impose artificial boundaries on the natural world.

The implications of Jeremy’s story extend into discussions about artificial intelligence and the limitations of machine learning in replicating organic life. Artificial intelligence, valued for its precision, operates on principles that seek to minimise error and maximise efficiency. However, Jeremy’s existence—characterised by unpredictability and non-binary features—reveals the inherent limitations of this approach when applied to complex biological and ecological systems. Here, the concept of “artificial stupidity” offers a counter-narrative: instead of eliminating “errors,” artificial stupidity embraces unpredictability as an essential component of intelligence. The biological world is rife with irregularities that AI often dismisses as faults, yet these irregularities are fundamental to survival and adaptation. By embracing “artificial stupidity,” we allow for a kind of digital intelligence that mirrors the adaptive, flexible behaviors seen in nature.

Jeremy’s story parallels other examples of biological adaptability, such as the nudibranch, a sea slug with the remarkable ability to regenerate its entire body from its head, and the sea cucumber, which can expel its toxic intestines to deter predators. While these behaviors may appear counterintuitive or illogical from a human perspective, they are critical survival strategies. These biological adaptations underscore the importance of recognising “imperfections” and anomalies as intrinsic to life’s resilience. In ecosystems, these behaviors represent evolved responses to environmental pressures, demonstrating the importance of embracing variability and unpredictability. In contrast, AI systems are designed to eliminate such variances, striving instead for consistent outputs. By adopting an “artificial stupidity” framework that allows for unpredictability, we can design digital systems that more accurately reflect the fluid and adaptive nature of biological intelligence.

In conclusion, Jeremy’s story, the regenerative abilities of the nudibranch, and the defensive mechanisms of the sea cucumber reveal the adaptive and unpredictable nature of biological systems. These narratives challenge the binary, error-eliminating logic of artificial intelligence, suggesting that true resilience and adaptability lie in the ability to embrace unpredictability. Jeremy’s legacy reminds us of the value of non-binary perspectives and the necessity of respecting the agency of all life forms. By moving beyond anthropocentric, binary frameworks, we can foster digital and ecological systems that honor the inherent variability of the natural world. This broader understanding has the potential to shape more inclusive, adaptable systems, encouraging a balance between technological advancement and ecological integrity.