Marble Smoke (BILLELIS x GREG MIKE COLLAB) #460/483

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"I'm not smart enough to be an astronaut." That is what 7 year old Rayden told Micah the first time they met. How can a 7-year-old already feel limitations on his dreams? For centuries, the black community has been the target of a system designed to limit their power, their earning potential, their dreams. Now is your opportunity to help destroy the system. For the next 11 years, on each brother's birthday, (Rayden, Aug. 10/ Jacque Nov. 6), you the viewer, will be able to directly contribute Bitcoin to a wallet that will be given to each child upon turning 18. In what is one of the most powerful use cases for Bitcoin, 100% of your contributions and earnings will open all new doors for these special young men.

This is xerox (or copyart) work that was originally on an A3 sheet of paper. Probably from 2009. Now it doesn't exists anymore. So someone can say that's really cryptoart. I don't care about tags and art categories. This is also the original title. From my archive, now tokenized forever in this digital form.

Today we are the ones our parents warned us about in the past. Do you remember the colourful PEZ dispensers with the different faces? When we were kids we used to stack candy, and today we stack satoshis because we have a plan B. We stick to this plan because Mahatma Gandhi has already said, "First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win. That is why we are giving the middle finger to the existing system.

The minty freshness

In this psychologically bed-headed portrait, a creature sets in a trance; his eyes devolved and vestigal, his third eye open but hardened and in a form resembling a Sharingan. The imagery therefore expresses an awareness existing in corporeal introspection. The creature’s mind sprouts, on the left side, an emerging face, grinning. To the right side of the head, red tentacles and fingers intertwine–a collaboration of invertebrate and vertebrate consciousness cooperatively handling paint brushes of the sort used to build an oil painting. The neck and throat bristle with random thorns, as from a rose or the upper portions of a beak sprouting from its flesh. The neck itself disassociates into layers of membranous material, terminating upon an abstracted base of convoluted forms composing its body. The nose is virtually non existent, more a sinus reiterative of the shape of the third eye. Set against the exposed teeth peering out of thick, meaty cheeks, a skeleton-like impression results. That impression sets behind a visceral set of lips and tongue, which is the creature’s prime seat of awareness. Sensual, organic, the tongue organ hangs, meaty, and with consciousness of a sea cucumber. It illuminates at the tip, drawing the attraction of a nearby moth–with mystery of purpose.