The Teach Series explores a stage in the evolution of the Amoebas Realm civilization where giant amoebas have become integrated into systems of education and cultural transmission. No longer regarded as mysterious entities, they are preserved, displayed, and studied as sources of knowledge.

Inspired by the ways societies pass information across generations, the series examines how once extraordinary discoveries gradually become part of collective understanding. Objects that once symbolized survival or control are transformed into tools for learning, preserving the memory of past encounters while preparing future generations to navigate their world.

Through these works, the amoebas become more than organisms; they become vessels of knowledge. The series reflects on humanity's enduring desire to document, categorize, and transmit understanding, revealing education as one of civilization's most powerful tools for continuity and adaptation.

Teacher’s Logbook No. 214

As every year, I took my pupils to the Eastern biome to show them semi-wild Sils. We usually have them practice handling the Sils with the appropriate equipment. They then bring home a small sample, which helps them better understand the environment we live in. Afterwards, they learn to seal it in the way they choose.

This year, one of the youngest took a long time to find their sample. Surprisingly, they chose a Sil that was very high up in a tree. I had barely looked away when they had already climbed up. I reprimanded them several times, asking them to come down, but they refused. What were they thinking? I’m used to their rather erratic behavior, but this time, it could have been dangerous…

When they finally came down, they held a small nocturnal amoeba in their scav. They had listened to my instructions surprisingly well: they had sealed it quickly with the pin provided and had carefully placed it in their bag. They were still young and hadn’t managed to find the mother-scale, and we could already see the discoloration of the scales around the temporary seal.

Back at the base, we moved on to the permanent sealing step. This same child had brought something from home: a small wooden object, with a Mare planted inside and very delicate links. Another Mare was added at the end of the structure. Their father had made it for them for this occasion, they explained to me. Their father was an amoebist, as far as I knew…

The child sealed their Sil with their father’s Mare, refusing the one I offered. When I asked what it meant to them, they told me it represented an old story their father had always told them: the story of a feather, lighter than themselves.

Logbook of an Teacher No. 237

This is the part of the cycle when I learn more than I teach. Today, we ventured into the newly created biome with all the pupils; a space they claim is safer, yet still alive with surprises.

Once more, one student brought their own sealing tools for the Sils, the amoebas they nurture. Ornate and unexpectedly precise, the tools seemed almost alive