Every living thing reaches a point where it must choose: grow again, or give back what it grew. BLOOM does not make that choice alone. It is put to the people who hold the work — a council of collectors, one voice per garden, deciding in the open whether the season ahead is spent on another bloom or on a return.
A DAO is simply a group of people who own something together and agree, in advance and in writing, on how they will decide things about it. No boardroom, no proxy, no quiet phone call — a published question, a fixed window, a countable answer, and a record that stays up forever. BLOOM's version of that is called the Assembly, and it opens in 2027. It is written down now so that it can be judged before it has any power.
Governance is only meaningful if it governs something real. These are the four levers, stated in advance, that the vote will genuinely control from 2027 onward.
Primary and secondary proceeds that are not spent on making gather in one visible vault. The Assembly decides what leaves it — a new production run, a commission, a grant to a Keeper, or a return to holders — and every movement is published against the motion that authorised it.
Whether the studio spends the next cycle making new work, giving back what the last cycle grew, or resting. This is the single largest decision BLOOM makes each year, and after 2027 the artist no longer makes it alone.
Who is invited next: how many Garden Gate places exist, whether a raffle runs, and which collaborators are brought into a chapter. Access is a shared resource, so access is a shared decision.
What is written into the Garden's rings, what is sealed, and what may never be edited afterwards. The Assembly guards the archive against its own future enthusiasm.
The garden is asked to open again. New work, new chapter, new hands at the gate. A bloom is a decision to spend the season on making rather than on gathering — it widens the archive and it widens the room. Choosing it means the studio's next months belong to the canvas.
The garden is asked to give back what it grew. Value that gathered quietly in the vault is turned outward to the people who kept the lights on. Nothing is promised, nothing is scheduled — it is simply the moment the harvest is shared rather than replanted.
Neither. The soil is left alone for a cycle. Rest is a decision too, and often the most expensive one to make and the most valuable one to have made.
Ten chairs, each named for a trait of the collection. They are all empty today, and they stay empty until 2027 — a chair is claimed by holding, never by application, and it moves with the work rather than with the person. Sell the piece and the seat leaves with it.
The Chair of Possibility
Seat 01
Possibility
The Chair of Resilience
Seat 02
Resilience
The Chair of Memory
Seat 03
Memory
The Chair of Wonder
Seat 04
Wonder
The Chair of Patience
Seat 05
Patience
The Chair of Imagination
Seat 06
Imagination
The Chair of Stillness
Seat 07
Stillness
The Chair of Courage
Seat 08
Courage
The Chair of Devotion
Seat 09
Devotion
The Chair of Return
Seat 10
Return
Slow on purpose. Nothing is decided in a night, and nothing is decided by whoever happens to be awake.
A reading
The studio publishes the state of the garden — what grew, what didn't, what it cost to keep.
A silence
Seven days where nothing may be proposed. Everyone reads before anyone speaks.
A motion
Any seat may put one of the three motions forward, in plain language, with its reasoning attached.
The vote
One garden, one voice. Open ballots, visible from the first to the last.
The record
Whatever is chosen is written down and left up, permanently, alongside who chose it.
A council is trustworthy in proportion to what it has voluntarily given up. These six limits are part of the charter and cannot be voted away by the body they bind.
The artist keeps the brush
No vote can dictate what a work looks like. The Assembly governs the institution around the art, never the art itself.
No vote can take a piece
Ownership is absolute. There is no motion, majority or emergency that can burn, freeze or reclaim a held work.
One garden, one voice — with a ceiling
Weight follows holdings, but it is capped, so a single large wallet can argue loudly and still cannot decide alone.
Nothing decided in a night
Every motion carries a mandatory reading period and a public ballot. Speed is not a virtue here.
Money moves in daylight
Treasury actions execute only against a passed motion, and the record stays up permanently — including the votes against.
The seat travels with the work
Sell the piece and the seat goes with it. Influence is attached to stewardship, not to a name or a login.
Sept 2026
The work mints. Holders are recorded. No governance yet — a garden is not a parliament on day one.
Late 2026
The first public reading: what was made, what it cost, what the vault holds. Discussion only.
Early 2027
The charter is published in full and put to a ratification vote. Nothing binds until it is ratified.
2027
The Assembly opens. Ten seats are filled by holding, the first motion is heard, and the first season is chosen by vote.
Every year after
One reading, one silence, one motion, one vote, one record. The same rhythm, indefinitely.
The Assembly opens in 2027. Until then nothing here votes on anything — every piece held is simply a seat kept warm.
