Meet Mr. Head, a cleaning robot that makes abstract paintings
Painting might be the last thing you'd expect robots to excel at, but some of them produce top quality results. Take Mr. Head, for example. This machine creates paintings in the style of the American abstract expressionism movement. He used to be a vacuum cleaner, but a Japanese engineer, who goes by the name HYdeJII, turned him into an artist.
The build is quite simple. HYdeJII attached four containers filled with acrylic paints into the robot and connected them with tubes. He then programmed the machine to move around a 1,000mm x 1,000mm canvas and squirt different paints. I bet he really likes Pollock and Riopelle.
Check out a video of Mr. Head dripping paint down a canvas after the break.
If you’re a fan of art that makes you do a double-take, you need to check out Richard Brener . Based in the UK, Richard is an internationally collected artist who works primarily with ink, fineliners, and gouache. When you first see his pieces, they actually look pretty playful. Then you realize the entire canvas is packed with thousands of tiny, ghost-like shapes he calls "champs." They’re all squeezed together like commuters on a rush-hour train, and the level of detail is honestly mind-blowing. Richard spends hundreds of hours drawing these little guys over and over. It’s obsessive, very intentional, and a little bit wild. The cool part is that the longer you stare, the more the vibe shifts. Check out more photos below:
My first apartment was in Malate, and calling it “small” would be generous. I lived there with two girls and one guy, and to this day, I genuinely don’t know how we all fit. It felt like a magic trick. Or a health hazard. We were a musical mess. One roommate lived and breathed ’70s classics. Another was permanently blasting Korn and Slipknot. One survived solely on cheesy love songs. And me? I was floating somewhere between new wave and folk rock, pretending that made sense. Somehow, despite the noise and the chaos, we all lived together in this weird, mismatched harmony. No murders. No lawsuits. A win, honestly. My music taste now is nothing like it was in my twenties. Not even close. But I’ll always be grateful to Jacqueline for introducing me to this song in particular. It was playing when I woke up from a very memorable sleep in 2002. I was 21, half-awake, probably confused about life, and that song stuck. It still hasn’t let go.
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