Grand Entrance to the World of the Dead

Beyond all human restraint lies one's lugubrious layers of paint.

A 'reversal' of Jean-Léon Gérôme's 1872 painting Pollice Verso.

1 minute experimental film.

Onward, upward, greener [redder] grasstures.

Rather pointless, rather stilted, fetid; not what we want us going after.

On the Clickity-clack Express it's clear I'm always under duress, unless I forget.

Shadows frighten what one oughtn't be gripping (that thing before/hind you).

I really hope this is well-received. I really hope there's some sort of reprieve.

From a small cabin in the mountains of New York, Nina Breeder and Massimilian Breeder begin a journey across the United States. California is just...

Return to 'burn' only to find out you're already in that urn.

(Some of us) Still run down the same [mental&emotional] streets we revered/reproached/replaced as children.

Locked away but not away; somewhere nearby but unreachable, a periphery so notfaroff it's always in sight.