The World Turns
Lost Without You
A couple is silhouetted against a bright green sky with patterns of a water surface, overlaid with a happy mating pair of birds, and a lone woman. The scale is uncertain, mountainsides too close, trees too small, the sky is shot through with veins of frosted glass. Graffiti mars the dark bottom. Below the couple […]
The White Widow
The widow in white, the color of mourning. Her antlers glowing, her body shifting like phases of the moon. In the background, hazy visions of rivers and fields and mountains behind. Everywhere the diffuse glow of starlight.
Demons
Unprepared
Nothing has prepared us for this The text is presented in white over a chaotic background of bubbles, leaves, and branches
Forgot About Us
A couple sit, leaning into each other for comfort in a space that combines a rocky seashore and the rigid structure of the halls of learning. The colors are faded out like an old photograph, and flowers float over the scene. In a decorative frame, the text reads: “the history books forgot about us”
Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms
Let Us Not Romanticize Our Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms The text is framed with and set in front of ornate damask patterns
I Miss The Mess We Were
A couple stare into each others eyes in the center of an unreal celestial maelstrom, clouds and nebulas merging with foggy mountains and half-seen forests. The title text is beside them, barely visible. They cannot see what is coming.
Normal
Anything can become normal, so let us take that power for ourselves. Let us make a routine of our resistance. Let us settle into the rhythm of the fight. Let us make merry as we lobby and protest, and drink to the neverending Revolution.
Priscilla Esmeralda Samantha Thumb
A portrait of a woman at different stages of life: a student, a wife, a mother, a grandmother. She is centered in all her different forms in a pink bloom, with a green wilderness all around. Gaming dice are overlaid, and the title is the name of her long time D&D character. Miss you, mom.
Yellow
Thousands upon thousands of daffodil blooms explode and overlap, shining through the last cold days and welcoming the sun in spring. The title text is scribbled over the flowers, overwhelmed by the lightness of rebirth.
Nothing Is For Naught
