Saigonpunk #2

I'm an alien, I'm a little alien, Someone's kitty from other world.

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 third piece is the Really Remote Working series, white sands and turquoise waters make this is a desk space like no other. Created during the lockdown period whilst being confined to the same place every day, this piece is part of a series of imaginary places that I dreamed of being able to work from.

Was it worth it?

The #PendingGerbil drew his breath nervously. Fail Dropped Dropped and Replaced There were nothing in this world he feared more. He looked at the chords that crossed the abyss in front of him. They were loaded with pending gerbils, clinging for their life. No open space to be seen. The world machine creaked under the load. As the wheel turned and settled on a new block with a load bang, the chords vibrated, and short shrieks were heard as tired paws lost their grip and the gerbils fell into oblivion. #PendingGerbil closed his eyes, sent a short prayer to @VitalikButerin, and took the leap. Written by: @Werekitty1 Pending Gerbil is a very special collaboration with NonFunGerbils (https://nonfungerbils.com/pendinggerbil)

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.