mark ryden renders pink treemeat to feed the peoples

Allegory of the Four Elements

 

strung out on refrigerated summer, reality didn’t really exist in the way it only can’t for a certain variety of girl loosed of space and temporality. I was going to drop out of college. there was a lack of wood in the summer. there was an abundance of dress & seeming substance. or a fractal pattern broke & made its way down the 101, sliced open a shred of its substance for a sifter. a stag in a red dress felt like a fish.

at what exact point does the animal cross the line and become meat?

sometimes the color study is prettier than the thing. I was obsessed with fractal patterns then felt inherent. like a triangle was the ultimate substance it was a root. in the past tense swallowing trees makes sense. at what point does the girl cease to eat the point at which was swallowed.

 

Ghost Girl

 

the apex at which god is unspellable. only to prelinguistic ears a glyph doesn’t have to perform semantics.

This fractal structure may actually describe the very fabric of reality, meaning the invisible structure behind all existence has the shape of a tree. In this way, the tree goes beyond being a mere symbol of the universe and is actually an echo of how reality is shaped.

a mysterious vein perplexing etymology is a root of a virgin before the deadline. so shaped the decline is bound to nature; unlike the binding which is made a body is fashioned. carved from mediumicity, it is itself a sentence. congruent with a critical concept of reflectiveness we take a liberty designated reading.

 

Snow White

 

so a depthless glass is deathless. this means the trauma was already concealed before being enacted upon the animal. the seam linked skin a schism. there doesn’t have to be this wall there just is. denaturing a tree is meet. metrical echoes when the scrim sweeps skyward, start the story with death, render : a dress cured of seasons doesn’t need a circle skirt : : underneath a birth cycle forgot  to make ammends.

 

Incarnation

 

in the garden every variety except those I forget. a gate is a symbol of a great thing made. popping a skein of thigh denatured.

how to love something & how to forget. how you do art. not by answering the question but by asking or trying.

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