One of the joys of social media is it's very easy to discover amazing new artists.
A dark force of pressure pushed him deep into the ground, through the rainbow coloured soil, swimming like a butterfly, spinning, eyes wide, twisting, strobe light eyes blinking.
Flames burn, twisting, fierce, fire purifies, illumines the darkness, hypnotic, engulfing the thirsty hearts.
Do you like feeling good? Who doesn't? Well, maybe Luke Skywalker in the Last Jedi, he seemed to be very content to wallow in his own misery, bitterly sipping unpasteurised blue milk from the teat of a space cow.
The fire flickers, illuminating the faceless figures, a serpent dances to the sound of the flames, gently swaying from side to side. Protecting, watching, ready to serve
In my world of synth I have a constant dilemma with myself. There is a real knack to being able to draw from something that sounds irreversibly like 1982 and yet make it fresh and exciting. How is this achieved?
Here's a question; If you had a device which you could use to clone yourself, would you use it?
Red velvet curtains, pristine, like a queens robe, gently sway in the heat. Cigarette smoke fills the air, dances from the ceiling. Drinks are served and poured, textured, smooth, golden, glistering as the light catches a glimpse upon its passing.
A mysterious figure lurks behind the blood red curtain, peering through a gap with its long uncut twisted finger nails, a shadow in the lonely darkness.
The moonlight caresses the sweeping branches, as the wind blows a whisper through the forest. The crisp leaves dancing through the midnight air, like tormented souls trying to escape the shadows.