You won’t go to heaven, you won’t go to hell. You’ll rot in your grave, with the stench and the smell. Unless you accept Math as your personal savior. Zeno’s first paradox will light your path.
Kali
Call of the first bird at dawn
(I draw and design my images) (and also come up with pseudo-intellectual poetic titles unbeknownst to the customer)
Wisperia
Death and the maiden
Hypatia
Apophis (Άποφις); eater of souls
in progress back piece, covering up bee rip-out thing
dead as man can be and still breathe
niht maere
the shepherd
I retired early, being very sleepy, but was harassed by dreams of the most horrible sort. I seemed to be looking down from an immense height upon a twilit grotto, knee-deep with filth, where a white-bearded daemon swineherd drove about with his staff a flock of fungous, flabby beasts whose appearance filled me with unutterable loathing. Then, as the swineherd paused and nodded over his task, a mighty swarm of rats rained down on the stinking abyss and fell to devouring beasts and man alike.
-The rats in the walls, H.P. Lovecraft
pinecones of the northwest (Fibonacci sequence)
