5 Oct 2023/10 min/WGMeets
MLow X WGMeets
Randy Ortiz, the abstract artist behind WGMeets, on making abstraction legible, the Cult of Crypto Art, and why he stopped believing in scarcity.
The published clip runs ten minutes; the full Google Meet behind it ran well over an hour, opening on Binance jitters (Randy Ortiz quit relying on exchanges roughly three years ago, and MLow admits he off ramps by trading ETH for fiat with friends) before settling into the art. Ortiz, a Dominican American graphic designer of about 22 years from New Jersey, makes digital abstracts built on fractals with AI used selectively. His fix for abstraction's accessibility problem is the description: written as a storyline that leads viewers partway toward the message, then lets them interpret freely, because he refuses to hold hands.
The centerpiece walkthrough is La Subida, the rise, on SuperRare: a stairway at bottom center opening into an expanse, his metaphor for the crypto art climb, its costs, and the need to look back at what you have done, be proud, and keep moving. From there the conversation maps his whole system: purples, yellows, and dangerously intense reds and blues as an emotional signature; Inoculate on Ethereum as his open ended forever series and Handmaid's Tales on Tezos for hand painted work; the WGMeets name traced to a 2008 arts and media blog that strangers at Newark events shortened for him; and the Cult of Crypto Art, the 100 plus member collective whose red XCOPY drawn triangle he stickers across events, and which keeps Alotta Money's memory alive at every show.
The back half turns to economics and the future. Ortiz has abandoned open editions for limited runs around 20 to 25 pieces, and rejects the scarcity gospel outright: XCOPY gave art away free on Tumblr, and connection, not supply, is what lasts. On the new Zero One platform he now mints only collaborations, sourced through a public Google form, trying to recapture the 2019 Editional feeling of racing to share free art. Then the interview flips: Ortiz starts asking the questions, and MLow puts his own story on record, digital art since age eight, five years apprenticed to a photographer, a cancer survivor's connection to Bananakin's work, and a case for curation as the thing crypto art still lacks.
What this episode teaches
- Write the description as a storyline
Ortiz knows many people look at abstracts and feel lost, so every piece ships with a narrative description that gives them a direction without dictating a reading. His rule: lead the viewer a certain way at first, then let whatever they take from it be fantastic too.
- Let color carry the emotion
Purples, yellows, greens, and reds and blues so intense he has to stop himself form a recurring signature across otherwise varied abstracts. He thinks constantly about tricking the eye into seeing colors that are not shown, and his monochrome pieces, though some of his best, never feel finished to him.
- Keep a forever series
Inoculate on Ethereum is deliberately endless, the place he mentally dumps everything without packaging it as a discrete drop, while Handmaid's Tales on Tezos holds his hand painted work. Splitting series by intent, not economics, removes the pressure to make every idea a collection.
- Scarcity is not the product
He moved from open editions to limited editions of no more than 20 to 25 around 0.1 ETH, but refuses the scarcity is king argument: he will not stop creating because an edition sold out, and points out that XCOPY, now the top case study, gave work away free in the Tumblr days. What lasts is work people connect with.
- Release when it is ready
After two decades of pharmaceutical design deadlines, he schedules almost nothing and mints a piece only when he still feels what he felt on finishing it, sometimes weeks later, after at least two color revisions. MLow adds the counterexample: his own project announced the day before FTX collapsed, locked to a self imposed date, taught him the same lesson.
- Label the AI
Ortiz uses AI in some collections (Flesh is 100 fully distinct AI based one of ones) but insists on transparency: say what tools you used, because collectors have been tricked into buying copyminted work sold as AI, and intent, not the tool, is what makes the art.
- Collaboration as a forcing function
On Zero One he mints nothing solo anymore: every drop must be a collaboration, sourced through a Google form open to anyone. For an artist whose abstracts come from inner dialogue, the constraint keeps him on his toes and spreads reach to artists who trust him with their work.
The conversation, topic by topic
Binance and living off exchange
Recorded amid Binance turbulence, the talk opens with money plumbing. Ortiz made himself a promise roughly three years ago to use exchanges as little as possible, touching them only to convert to fiat and pay himself; MLow says he OTCs with friends who need to move between ETH and fiat rather than wait out Coinbase's five day holds.
Digital abstracts with a message
Ortiz describes his practice: fractal based digital abstracts, occasional AI, and a message always at the forefront, drawn from meditation, society, or the state of crypto art itself. Descriptions are written as storylines so people who do not understand abstracts get a handhold; color and presentation matter to the point of OCD, a legacy of 22 years in graphic design.
La Subida, the climb
His latest SuperRare piece, Spanish for the rise. A stairway at bottom center leads into an opening expanse full of the motion and vibration he builds into his work: the crypto art journey, which costs you something whether in dedication or losses, and the instruction to look back at what you have done, be proud, and then move forward. He often titles and writes in Spanish as a Dominican American.
The color system
MLow pulls up his SuperRare page live and names the purples and yellows; Ortiz confirms them and adds the reds and blues he has to ration because not everything can be fully saturated. He wants colors that give off energy, is adding more greens, and returns from monochrome experiments to vibrancy like coming home.
Series across chains
Inoculate on Ethereum is his main forever series, an open ended home for everything; Handmaid's Tales on Tezos is where he goes back to painting things by hand. Both carry the same constant: reflecting on what is going on and the intent behind it.
When Geeks Meet
The name dates to 2008, when he started an arts and media review blog and went to events alone interviewing people and shooting photos. Event regulars in Newark shortened the blog's name to WGMeets and it stuck; he kept it in crypto because he wanted the work, not his real name, to be the focus. Today it survives as his signature, WG, and as an art collective he runs.
The Cult of Crypto Art
Ortiz belongs to COCA, the artist led collective founded around XCOPY, Eclectic Method, Young Glitches and others, now over a hundred members with collector Basileus helping fund presence at NFT Paris and the Portugal conference. The red triangle logo was made by XCOPY; there is no application, it just happens, like a weird not quite public fight club. Every event carries a tribute to Alotta Money, who was a personal friend to many members.
Favorite artists
He collects for the piece, not the name, favoring underdogs: Eclectic Method for punk video remixes that eat copyright strikes, Trevor Jones for bridging traditional painting and digital, Weeping Snakes (whom he calls his sister, also in WGMeets), a pixel painter whose game references from Final Fantasy VII to Galaga hit his video game nerd nostalgia, and above all Bananakin, whose vibrancy across styles never suffered even through illness.
Bananakin and the cancer connection
MLow notes XCOPY has been buying Bananakin's one of ones in recent weeks, then shares something personal: he is a cancer survivor himself, and Bananakin's work about his own cancer resonated deeply. Ortiz congratulates him and reflects that Bananakin's message never wavered while he was sick, which speaks volumes on a human level.
Collaborations and Zero One
His biggest collaboration was a five part 2020 series with MLIBTY on KnownOrigin that turned the internet into an adventure called Journey. Now on Zero One he mints only collaborations, chosen through a Google form, each release a surprise in one of his many styles. His genesis there was double minted, growing pains he shrugs off, and he shares links only in group chats, not on Twitter.
The Editional spirit
He started minting in 2019 on Editional, giving art away free in what felt like a race to mint, alongside a cohort of artists who went on to bigger things. Zero One is his attempt to get back to that: art shared for the joy of it, no marketing team, no hype machine, secondary fees on chain and modest.
Against the schedule
Years of magazine layouts and pharmaceutical design deadlines left him with a strong dislike of timelines; he creates when he sits down, often after his three kids and wife go to bed, and mints only when a piece still connects. Exceptions get scheduled reluctantly: the 100 piece Flesh drop, and a three part collection due on Foundation in early October.
Dynamic NFTs
MLow explains Patrick Amadon's Doppelganger contract from Transient Labs, which puts multiple artworks on one token so the owner chooses what displays, and reveals his own upcoming project: ten artists on one doppelganger token, each adding a layer so you can scroll the piece's progression. Ortiz has an Async Art piece with ten ownable backgrounds whose layer owners change its state, and loves the idea of work that is never finished, matching his motto that the message is never done.
The tables turn
Ortiz interviews MLow: his path (digital art since age eight, five years apprenticed to a photographer across digital and analog, then curation), what crypto art means to him (a digital renaissance, no place like it), and whether curation is healthy. MLow argues there are nowhere near enough curators: PFPs took off because 10,000 pieces rally one community, curators could do the same for art, discovery across 20 marketplaces is broken, and fees should scale with how much legwork an artist actually needs. Both agree the beauty of crypto art is picking your own menu: be your own everything, or hire the parts you lack.
In their words
“I don't like to hold hands. Whatever you take out of it, that's also fantastic. But I'm gonna at least try to lead you a certain way at first.”
WGMeets“There's always a climb, there's always a cost.”
WGMeets“There's a certain way to evoke emotion within colors.”
WGMeets“It's kind of like a weird public fight club, but not public.”
WGMeets“X copy was giving out art for free. It's not necessarily about scarcity. It's about offering something that people can connect with.”
WGMeets“There really is no other place like Web 3, in my opinion. It's really a digital renaissance in a certain sense.”
MLowCite this conversation
WGMeets in conversation with MLow, "MLow X WGMeets," The MLow Show, 5 Oct 2023. https://show.mlow.xyz/e/2023-10-05-mlow-x-wgmeets.html. Quoted from a machine transcript.
Quotations come from machine transcripts. Check wording against the audio before republishing.