'The regretful shove from push of a shade extinguished consequently killed the triangle outright. A world spelled out in light, defined by defeat, fell from the clouds in a distant, low and perpetual roar. Gloom incarnate lured by fire to the archestral assassin is wiped from the face of the realm. Elspeth, fractured by kismetic rules, switches off at the discovery and begins to release a wave of noise. An arc must be avenged sweetly in light, astraphobically lost to a blank rhythm of the indefinite. One of these days morphs into gust of mutts and the spiral cascades. Red pollen in a black flower.

Numbers spill from the veins of Elspeth's shadow to invoke a barrier protectress. The paper soul slumbers, marooned. Freedom imminent. Cutting the void out entirely, though painful, marks a point in space from which unknowable entities dance in constellation, glory on constant repeat. The darkness becomes reviviscence.'

A pen and ink drawing coloured digitally

3535 x 3535 at 300dpi