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由 APEP
由 APEP
A series of characters from the neck-up.
The Rare Find
The fog inside his mind crippled his ability to perceive low flying objects. From bang to whack he fell forward in a dizzy spillage of pain and regret. His face had started to take the form of a swelling ball of clay. He'd forgotten where he'd left to go to. He'd forgotten how long he'd been out. Faces walked past him and looked with an air of disgust and irreverence at his discoloured figure. If only they'd taken the time to get to know him, and ask him what his favourite cassette was. Maybe even why.
He curled up outside the church door and waited for the crows to come. He always liked the sound they made when the rain started to come down. It must be to do with the worms, wriggling their way to the surface for a glimpse at the falling tides, only to be plucked out of their warm wormy crevice and swallowed hole.
Impenetrable things floating round my head
A collection of experiments created with 2D and 3D softwares, accompanied with sound.
wEIRD CHARACTERS, eerie meetings on street corners, nasal prostates and globular traffic pushed to the side of the road so people can get to work on time. Meanwhile, up on U8i9-ppL, the benevolent and immutable Roger the Beatnik retraces his steps, hoping to find the microphone he lost when he landed. Flies gather on the carcass. Its belly writhes with the expectation to explode. It's going to smell terrific.
Divorcing the unnatural to reek wonders with happiness bound in jelly and fudge
Fingers of sugar walking down to the yard and why must you all fidget under the tables you cowards must look and wonder where are all the stars they’re not on the floor you floundrelling flummusks they need to wake down and up through the rotten canvas I buried my cat under on Wednesday night it was a full moon and she said it was the right thing to do
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The Rare Find
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robrob
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由 APEP
由 APEP
A series of characters from the neck-up.
The Rare Find
The fog inside his mind crippled his ability to perceive low flying objects. From bang to whack he fell forward in a dizzy spillage of pain and regret. His face had started to take the form of a swelling ball of clay. He'd forgotten where he'd left to go to. He'd forgotten how long he'd been out. Faces walked past him and looked with an air of disgust and irreverence at his discoloured figure. If only they'd taken the time to get to know him, and ask him what his favourite cassette was. Maybe even why.
He curled up outside the church door and waited for the crows to come. He always liked the sound they made when the rain started to come down. It must be to do with the worms, wriggling their way to the surface for a glimpse at the falling tides, only to be plucked out of their warm wormy crevice and swallowed hole.
Impenetrable things floating round my head
A collection of experiments created with 2D and 3D softwares, accompanied with sound.
wEIRD CHARACTERS, eerie meetings on street corners, nasal prostates and globular traffic pushed to the side of the road so people can get to work on time. Meanwhile, up on U8i9-ppL, the benevolent and immutable Roger the Beatnik retraces his steps, hoping to find the microphone he lost when he landed. Flies gather on the carcass. Its belly writhes with the expectation to explode. It's going to smell terrific.
Divorcing the unnatural to reek wonders with happiness bound in jelly and fudge
Fingers of sugar walking down to the yard and why must you all fidget under the tables you cowards must look and wonder where are all the stars they’re not on the floor you floundrelling flummusks they need to wake down and up through the rotten canvas I buried my cat under on Wednesday night it was a full moon and she said it was the right thing to do
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