Most recent post

The art of the obscure and meaningless

-
Image
  The hand that holds the glamour Between the flick of a lighter and the curl of smoke lies a story told in two parts: the hand that holds the glamor, Between the flick of a lighter and the curl of smoke lies a story told in two parts: the hand that holds the glamor, and the eye that chooses to believe it. The art of the obscure and meaningless In the realm of modernist art , exemplified by Eddie's deliberate embrace of abstraction and mystery , artists have increasingly surrendered their authoritative power of intent to a veil of meaningless vagueness, compelling viewers to co-create meaning from fragmented suggestions rather than receiving a clear, directive vision. Her scalpel-wielded dissections—such as her perforated self-portraits or obscured war images—eschew explicit communication in favour of elusive hints, as she professed a desire to remain "mysterious" and avoid revelation, thereby shifting the burden of interpretation onto the audience in a pseudo-spiritual a...
Post a Comment

Head on

-

Head on

Locked into a decollation of vision
Somewhere between dystopia and utopia
Of daunting scale and empowered ownership
For the futures of all inhabitants
Especially for those who are unable to prophetize

Through compassion and in hatred, paths are layed
Through rhetoric and within reality gaps, plans are devised
Crossroads are manufactured to include outputs of macabre scenarios
And these vivid horrors repetitively weave throughout our histories
Nothingness as sacred, nothingness as incidental

Our fabricated artilleries are lavished with discord
Of senseless killing and normalized clarification
These roadkills are cleansed though legitimate action
And our carnage is visualised through predictable datasets

Grieve is pushed aside
Knowing that the odds against are in favour
Contained within the numbers
That is digestible
To those in pain, those who ignore and those who can exploit





Popular posts from this blog

The Kepler Kiss

-
Image
  The Kepler Kiss A Cosmic Coffee Experience Imagine stepping into a bustling café aboard a deep-space station, where the air hums with the gentle vibrations of starships docking and departing. As you make your way to the counter, your senses are immediately captivated by the aroma of a futuristic beverage—the Keplar Kiss .  The Visual Delight Served in a matte-black ceramic mug , the Kepler Kiss is a sight to behold. Its rim glows with a turquoise light, casting an ethereal glow that accentuates the coffee's deep, cosmic allure. The drink itself is a masterpiece, with its surface shimmering like a miniature nebula . Swirls of indigo and violet dance gracefully, interspersed with flecks that resemble distant stars. As you gaze into this cosmic concoction, wisps of steam rise elegantly, forming spiral patterns that subtly mimic constellations. An Atmosphere of Retro-Industrial Sci-Fi The café is a harmonious blend of retro-industrial textures and high-tech sci-fi ambience. The...
Read more

The Puppet Master

-
Image
  Puppet Master The narrow, high-walled passage swallowed the sound of my boot scraping a broken cobblestone, the echo sharp in the dry air. Above, a sliver of unforgiving sunlight cut down, carving deep shadows where the damp, mossy scent of the gully was now replaced by the smell of dust and ancient stone. I paused, looking not just at my gloved hand—the leather scuffed from my descent, but at what was attached to it. Thin, nearly invisible lines, like high-tensile wires , stretched from the articulated cuff on my wrist and disappeared into the air above the path. I tracked them with my eyes until they converged on a small, stone figure standing motionless in the centre of the walkway. It was a crude marionette , barely a foot tall, carved from the same pale, cracked stone as the surrounding walls. Dressed in a simple tunic, its blank, oval face held a radiating sense of expectant waiting. Its arms were held out, palms up. I held the strings. Yet, the feeling was not one of cont...
Read more

Godliness in Stone

-
Image
  Scene 1 It smells like… time down here. Not just damp earth or rot, but something older. A primal scent that’s been waiting in the dark for a millennium. I’m recording this at the bottom of the scar somewhere in the anomaly. In my mind, it's called the Necropolis Gully . My helmet is trying to map it—casting these sterile, digital grids over the moss and the stone—but the data doesn’t make sense. It’s glitching. It’s shuddering against the reality of this place. I don't know why I'm here, looking at ruins. Just... debris. But in the ruins, I found the ghosts of a future that never happened. I was walking over shards of polymerised memories . This was once a city.  It was meant to be the heart of a new world that... simply stopped. It wasn't an engineering failure. It was a failure of existence. Holding that slate, I felt this... weight. The grief of the architect. The "wounds of unbuilt dreams." I realised then that this isn't a graveyard for people. It’...
Read more