Used to work morning shifts in a coffee shop that was attached to a lounge that served halfway decent food. Unless the cook that had smoked too much crack was working.
I’d get off work, have a couple pints of IPA in the lounge and bullshit around with whoever was tending bar, then go home and paint all day.
Another digital text art.
I can’t help it — it always ends up in there somehow.
This is a whole bunch of text on layers mixed with layers of other squiggly lines. You can read some. But I can also hide secret messages in there.
I’ll be subliminally reminding you to eat your broccoli, wash your hands, and be courteous of other drivers.
Sometimes you have to blow up everything you know and start over.
In writing, we call this “killing your darlings.” In art and architecture, it’s called deconstructivism.
When you’re living this way, it’s called camping.