Draw, O coward! No, sir, panic is a basic in a prison.
Rip, cut, collect. Art, a star. Collages, so elegant. A canal, plan, a NASA lad. Did I as I said I’d do? O, stone, be not so.
Was it a car or a cat I saw? Rats live on no evil star. No lemons, no melon.
Maps, DNA, and spam. Step on no pets. No, it’s a bar, it's a bat, it's a stab.
Evil is a name of a foeman, as I live. Name now one man.
No, tie it on. Live not on evil. No, it is opposition.
Trap all afoot. I panic in a pot. No pinot noir.
Drawn, I sit; serene rest is inward.
Bottles of The Scents in the codex
Explore this creation forwards, backwards, in a mirror, on your head, upside down—each perspective offers a new layer of intrigue.
Don't forget to explore my website for fresh updates. Dive into the day’s art, woven into digital form. Can you spot the changes?