Jwahir Sundai

What happens if I add one more?

Published: August 26, 2026 · 3 min read

I wanted to begin with something that felt settled: a field of lines already divided, already complete enough to leave alone.

Then I ask you to interrupt it with a simple prompt: Add one more.

Wherever you click, a new point arrives and the field redraws itself around that decision, bending lines and making room for a composition that felt finished to become something else.

The rule

The work is built on a Voronoi diagram, where each point claims the part of the canvas that is closer to it than to any other point, and a boundary appears wherever two points are equally close.

Mathematically, the cell for point p_i contains every location x where distance(x, p_i) <= distance(x, p_j) for every other point p_j. When a new point is added, the answer to that comparison changes for the locations nearest to it.

It is a quiet rule, but it is everywhere: it can describe the reach of a cell tower, the service area around a delivery hub, and the patterns that show up in leaves, foam, and dry earth. The diagram does not choose favorites; it simply recalculates, taking new territory only from the places nearest to the new arrival.

Making room

I keep coming back to the moment after the click, when nothing has been removed but the space is different and the old boundaries remain in memory even as the new ones take their place.

People do this too. Someone enters your life, a commitment appears, or an idea takes hold, and nothing has to disappear for the shape of your days to change.

You can add points until the field becomes dense and almost organic, then reset it and begin again. I like that the piece never settles on a final arrangement. It keeps asking what happens when one more thing arrives.

A Voronoi study

Add one more