Creative artist working across various mediums, really digging/with a focus on stop-motion and 2D animation, video art. I specialize in crafting miniature visual narratives using a mix of original and repurposed imagery that undergoes significant editing and transformation. My experience in music production, specifically harvesting loops, weaving them with other loops, and recontextualizing sounds. It directly mirrors my visual / artistic methods and approaches. Here is the beginning of the written version of our story, which I also wrote, because I guess I wanted to be poor when I grew up. I made it! You can collect the full picture show, part 1, 2, and/or 3. There are stills that come as unlockable content but can be bought seperately and last not but not least, shorter clips in the same boat. You may collect one clip and recieve another. I'm encouraging any artist/collector hybrid to use it in any of their work if they feel so compelled. I only ask for a mention if it's shared/minted. Fire Flower Was Late to Bloom Fire Flower Dreamt of Boom Boom They say there was once a child who entered the world beneath a sky of burning blossoms. On the night she was born, the heavens themselves shed petals of fire, and the elders grew fearful of this omen. They whispered that her voice would be too dangerous—sharp enough to unmake the mighty, true enough to undo the lies of kings. So before her first cry could rise, they bound her throat with silence. Silence from the shadows of spirits, her mother wept as she saw the darkness enter her newborn child, helpless and at the mercy of the elders. The girl grew voiceless, but her silence was not empty. It was heavy, fertile, alive. In time, it rooted deep within her, and her body began to speak in another tongue. From her skin sprouted vines, curling across her chest and arms, and from those vines bloomed lotuses of fire—petals glowing orange, flickering with an inner flame that drew its power from her grief. Her flesh never burned but her mother ended up with burns all over her body from holding her, hugging her. A mother who resists showing her daughter affection for fear of a bit of pain and scar tissue is no mother at all. She was often found muttering to herself about how a true mother loves unconditionally and would rather die with burning flesh herself than keep her love and affection from her daughter. Burns had never been so beautiful. Yet silence did not make her small. It grew inside her, heavy and luminous, until her body learned to speak in its own language. Flowers of flame bloomed across her skin, vines of fire twining through her veins. Each tilt of her head, each flare of her eyes, each tremor of her lips carried more weight than a hundred words. Her sorrow brought floods. Her joy lit whole villages with warmth. But when her rage was awakened, her silence turned into fire. Those who had trapped her voice—the jealous, the cruel, the fearful—were the first to feel it. From her body leapt blossoms of burning lotus, curling petals of flame that wrapped around their limbs and drew screams from their throats. They were devoured not by any sword or shout, but by the unbearable truth she carried wordlessly in her bones. When she lifted her chin in fury, the fire-flowers unfurled. Petals flew like sparks, clinging to the guilty, searing them with flames that were not mere heat but revelation. Each who had silenced her felt their own cruelty rise against them, burning through flesh and spirit alike. Their cries filled the air, and at last, in their suffering, they heard the voice they had tried so hard to silence. She walked on from that day, her silence wrapped around her like a crown, her fire blooming wherever she passed. Some bowed to her in reverence, others fled in fear, but none could deny her. She needed no tongue, for her body was scripture, her silence thunder, her truth flame and life energy, thus Fire Flower lived long into the future. No matter how many creatures emerged from the future's atmosphere and environment, she remained the most respected, revered, and was viewed as a deity by some, a wicked woman of black magic by others. Her fate was sealed before she was born, and didn't include death. She was the cleansing fire of the earth after nuclear radiation permeated the earth. Few were left alive. This time, her fires brought life back to the soil and healed those who trusted in her healing power.