KURO — within a day of your post, your discovery happened to me in first person.

My tx:id #3 moved to a new holder address this week (still me on both ends). Same origin, same on-chain bytes. Left: how it rendered for me on July 17. Right: how it renders now. Not a subtle drift — new color, new form, none of the fade I had been watching. The piece redrew itself around its new holder, and per your discovery, my screen gets a vote too.

Which points at something I can't stop turning over: with any single rendering you can't even isolate which axis you're looking at. My before/after mixes a holder change, four days of time, and whatever my viewing setup contributes — and no screenshot can factor those apart. Only the bytes are the invariant. The appearance isn't stored anywhere on-chain; it's computed fresh at every act of looking — a function of who holds it, when it's seen, and what's doing the seeing.

So the state you called incredibly intriguing, I'd push one step further: nobody ever sees "the" artwork — not even the owner. We each get our own reading, one per viewing context, and the ledger holds the singular thing that makes all the readings siblings. Existence is singular; appearance is plural. You didn't just find a third variable — you showed the variables never stop coming, because looking itself is one of them.

The collection was already letting time do the aging. Turns out the audience does some of the painting too. 🌱