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By m0dest
By m0dest
A canvas laid flat, with shapes in dispute, A violet splotch, the scene's playful brute. With rectangles rigid, in black-tie attire, The purple blob grins, an impish liar.
Yellow stands firm, a king with no crown, Beside the red's glow, a celestial gown. But mischief, it blooms, in a violet hue, A giggle in paint, a jester's debut.
The squares hold their breath, the lines stand in queue, While violet dances, as if on cue. The strokes tell a tale, in the old man's jest, Of order and chaos, a visual test.
"Here's life," old man might quip, with a knowing smile, "In boxes and blobs, and a violet's guile. A world left behind, with its colors and shapes, A mischief-maker, from which no one escapes."
So sing, oh sing, of the violet's play, In a universe strict, where straight lines sway. For in the old man's verse, as in art's bold riff, There's wisdom in laughter, and truth in a tiff.
"Left Behind," a series that seems to have tumbled out of the back pocket of the universe while it was busy doing something else, is a cavalcade of canvases that are cluttered with the debris of geometric introspection. Picture this: shapes and shadows that got stood up by their own dimensions, waiting in a two-dimensional limbo, where depth is as elusive as a politician's promise.
This series, it's like a love letter to the leftovers, a tip of the hat to what remains when everything else has moved on to bigger and better things—or at least to things with more than two dimensions. It's art that doesn't just hang on the wall; it leans against it, casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for someone to ask, "What's your story?"
Contract Address0x7ebd...4dd8
Token ID2
Token StandardERC-721
ChainEthereum
Last Updated6 months ago
Creator Earnings
violet_mischief
Owned by
NFTLaurent
visibility
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violet_mischief
Owned by
NFTLaurent
0
visibility
47 views- PriceUSD PriceQuantityExpirationFrom
- PriceUSD PriceQuantityFloor DifferenceExpirationFrom
By m0dest
By m0dest
A canvas laid flat, with shapes in dispute, A violet splotch, the scene's playful brute. With rectangles rigid, in black-tie attire, The purple blob grins, an impish liar.
Yellow stands firm, a king with no crown, Beside the red's glow, a celestial gown. But mischief, it blooms, in a violet hue, A giggle in paint, a jester's debut.
The squares hold their breath, the lines stand in queue, While violet dances, as if on cue. The strokes tell a tale, in the old man's jest, Of order and chaos, a visual test.
"Here's life," old man might quip, with a knowing smile, "In boxes and blobs, and a violet's guile. A world left behind, with its colors and shapes, A mischief-maker, from which no one escapes."
So sing, oh sing, of the violet's play, In a universe strict, where straight lines sway. For in the old man's verse, as in art's bold riff, There's wisdom in laughter, and truth in a tiff.
"Left Behind," a series that seems to have tumbled out of the back pocket of the universe while it was busy doing something else, is a cavalcade of canvases that are cluttered with the debris of geometric introspection. Picture this: shapes and shadows that got stood up by their own dimensions, waiting in a two-dimensional limbo, where depth is as elusive as a politician's promise.
This series, it's like a love letter to the leftovers, a tip of the hat to what remains when everything else has moved on to bigger and better things—or at least to things with more than two dimensions. It's art that doesn't just hang on the wall; it leans against it, casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for someone to ask, "What's your story?"
Contract Address0x7ebd...4dd8
Token ID2
Token StandardERC-721
ChainEthereum
Last Updated6 months ago
Creator Earnings
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