The following article was published in N-SPHERE April 2011 issue.


A radio is a box with tiny people making music inside of it. No, no, let me try again. A radio receiver is an electronic device comprised of an antenna and various filters to make out the valid portion of a wireless signal, using demodulation and decoding to translate said signal into things that pleasantly tickle the ear.

However common and quaint and easily ignored the radio is today, the fact of the matter is that this entity, with all of its vices and devices, set up, nearly a century ago, the birth of an age in which mass distribution of art, audio art in particular, was no longer a crazy idea. Why should this be important? Because whether you float through the waves of mainstream or dive into the depths of underground, none of these cultures would exist should it not be a way to globally distribute their beacons. The radio was the beginning of a new era in entertainment, the stepping stone of all today’s music industry, although the premises of such endeavours were completely different.

The ancestor of radio, spark–gap telegraphy, was widely used at the beginning of the 20th century, especially in seafaring vessels and messages were transmitted with the use of Morse code. The first radio broadcast using amplitude modulated signals happened in 1910 when the performances of Cavalleria Rusticana and Pagliacci were transmitted into the ether, only to be received by a select few. The public population only started having mass access to radio broadcasting after WWI. In 1920 the first radio station was established, following the broadcasting experimentations of soldiers in WWI, which were using their military radio equipment to broadcast music (1919, the Telephone Engineer).

During the interwar period, the rise of radio broadcasting was exponential, and by the beginning of WWII, most households would have a receiver. Though making possible for a single song to be instantly heard in millions of homes, the radio also became a political instrument for propaganda and mass control. For instance, Japan used female broadcasters, commonly referred to as Tokyo Rose, for propaganda purposes during the war. Radio played an important part in WWII, surpassing telegraph communication (using cables that were often sabotaged), and distributing specific music for troops’ control and morale.

An instrument of control, an entity that signalled globalization, radio, like television later on, gained its global independence only in the aftermath of the cold war. The brink of the third millennium brought the search for life in the outer space, and there are stations that pick up radio signals from outside the atmosphere or even send out messages via radio waves. Terry Bisson imagined the leader of the fifth invading force speaking with the commander in chief (1991, Terry Bisson, They’re Made Out of Meat):

“They’re made out of meat.” [...]
“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?”
“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”
“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”
“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”
“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.” [...] “Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?” [...]
“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in the quadrant, without prejudice, fear, or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”
“I was hoping you would say that.” [...]
“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the universe.” [...] “so that we’re just a dream to them.”
“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.” [...] “Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the universe would be if one were all alone.”

Artwork: Harris & Ewing. 1910-1920. Radio. courtesy of the artists

by Vel Thora

Full article here.



The following article was published in N-SPHERE April 2011 issue.


Andrei Tarkovsky is the kind of director who makes great demands on the viewer’s patience due to his loose narratives and very slow pace. But this is not to say that that they are without an interest or importance.

Tarkovsky was born in 1932 in Zavzhe (now Belorus), the son of the poet (and translator) Arseny Tarkovsky and the actress Maria Ivanovna, who also appeared in his film Zerkalo. Fragments from his father’s poems appeared as well in Zerkalo, Stalker and Nostalghia. I pointed out this biographical detail because it is easier to understand his style and themes using this as a starting point. Tarkovsky was not an ordinary director, even for arthouse film–making.

Generally a film, no matter the genre, either sends a clear set of ideas, either has a fascinating story/great characters, or it toys with the viewer’s emotions and so forth. Tarkovsky did none of those; his films aren’t about the ideas one can extract, his characters are pretty much the same in all of his films, the plot is generally vague and minimal; as for emotions, one would rather say that his works are toying more with patience than emotions. Yet, trying to judge his movies from these coordinates would be simply missing the point.

However, we can perceive his films more like poems because poetry has a specific way of resonating with its reader (and/or the other way around). Like his films, poetry is not about narratives or message (read Stéphane Mallarmé’s works if you do not believe me), but it is about creating a space of its own, a space you walk into rather than take for granted and claim it as yours. In this context, his films make more sense, because they, as well, remain in a space of their own. In the light of all these aspects, his slow pace makes more sense: in real life, when you watch an event, there is no fast forward option, nor is it there when you are wandering confused some abandoned road.

Sadly, today’s films are more about the fast–forward process, about the things we see, we know or like to hear, not about what escapes us. However, the film (as an environment) is not about that – if you want stories, there are plenty books to read, if you want convenience, then you have dozens of sitcoms and standup comedy shows either on the web, or on your favorite TV channel – it is about being able to bring life on screen. Yes, everyone will agree with that, but there are only a handful of films that do it. The rest is just entertainment, well done entertainment occasionally, but still too artificial to be really believable. Slowness has its own role as well: it is like capturing time in there; I am not saying all these just for the sake of wild–guessing, but because Tarkovsky considered the capture of time at its most significant instance to be at the center of film–making.

Tarkovsky’s first feature Ubiytsy (The Killers) (1956) was a short film based on Ernst Hemingway’s short story with the same name which was met (and still is) with an overall positive (even if restrained) feedback. (Indeed, it was not only his feature, as the writing/directing credits were split between him, Aleksandr Gordon and Marika Beiku). Three years later, he made another short – Segodnya uvolneniya ne budet (There Will Be No Leave Today) . In 1961 he made his school diploma short film Katok I Skripka (Steamroller and the Violin) , which, of all three, is closest to what his later works would aim at. One year later he shot his first feature, Ivanovo Destvo (Ivan’s Childhood) which takes the war–film pattern and infuses it with dream sequences and dazzling images. The result was a bleak, unusual haunting film that would set many of Tarkovsky’s coordinates.

Four years later he would resurface with what many consider to be his masterpiece: Andrei Rublev (1966). The film is loosely based on the life of the famous medieval icon painter Andrei Rublev and the interesting aspect here is that the film itself has some sort of an iconographic plot structure. There is no real protagonist here, but there is a certain tone and a certain vibe that holds the movie together during its daring 204 minutes (original) length. Here, the idea of a time–sculpture is strongly underlined. The long takes allowed the time to flow through individual sequences so that they can take effect on the audience. While some may consider this film tedious and meaningless, one thing cannot be denied: that every new thing Tarkovsky has ever brought to cinema had its roots here.

In 1973, Andrei Tarkovsky helmed Solyaris, an adaptation of the Stanislaw Lem’s novel with the same name and also as a reaction to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A space Odyssey which he found to be too cold. However, there is one thing the two films have in common: Solyaris is as much your daily SF movie as 2001:… is. On other notes, Solyaris maintains the contemplative tone of its predecessor, but with a far greater effect and, if some things passed unnoticed on Rublev on the date (delayed due to conflicts with soviet authorities), now they became clearer. On the one hand, Tarkovsky was a great portraitist: his camera lingers onto the actors’ faces, surprising key emotions and also – why not? – giving his characters’ credibility. On the other hand, there is a certain distance to be noticed when it comes to the female characters.

The landscapes in Tarkovsky’s films have an outlandish quality of their own, as if they lent a sense of timelessness. Vivid images of all the four elements (air, earth, fire, water) abound in his films as well, giving the whole output a mystical resonance (not to mention that most of his movies have a religious touch). Animals (dogs in particular) appear very often in his films, very probably as being entities or embodiments.

Now returning to Solyaris (and drawing a parallel to Stalker, as well) one could notice that for a science fiction film, it has barely anything to do with any technological gadgets. The science fiction attribute is just coined to make some certain things possible (believable). There is a post–apocalyptic tone, especially in Stalker and Solyaris, but the amusing aspect is that, on a second glance, one could notice that appearances can be deceiving. Tarkovsky was neither a nihilist, nor a man without hope. In his films nature seems to be an active force so the post–apocalyptic tone may actually suggest a symbiosis.

Moving on, Mirror and Nostalghia both had a pronounced auto–biographical note. In 1986, well aware of his illness (lung cancer), Andrei Tarkovsky helmed what would be his final project: The Sacrifice. The result was an interesting blend between Tarkovsky and Bergman (the latter’s cameraman, Sven Nykvyst, was involved).

There are many more things to tell about Tarkovsky’s films, but becoming too detailed about this particular topic is not helpful because, outside some important considerations, there nothing about his films I can tell you that you couldn’t figure out yourself. There are many interesting dialogues and symbols and themes, but they are easy to spot (the self–confrontation in Stalker is a good example). The difficulty in his films doesn’t come from misunderstanding their signals, but from not being able to sit them through. However, those being able are rewarded with some of the most stunning cinematic experiences ever recorded on the celluloid.

Good night and happy stalking.

Movie still: Andrei Tarkovsky. Ivan’s Childhood.

by Shade

Full article here.



The following article was published in N-SPHERE April 2011 issue.


Hallo and welcome to The Spheres. According to your biography, Maria Mann is a multifaceted artist residing in Germany. Do you believe that artists have to branch out in different areas in our time?

This is a time of over saturation. Also in the field of art – everything had already been done or exists in a form and the scene is overcrowded with artists and so called artists.
I think it’s important to build new connections, which means not to Diana Daia think only in old structures, but be open for mixing up things – concerning the field of work the same as the art itself.

Would you be interested in changing your location and move from to another country? Do you regard your work as close to your background and the people living in Hamburg, Munchen etc.?

Although I have been living in Germany – mostly Munich, where I was born, and Hamburg, where I live today – all my life and certainly am influenced by that, I don’t feel like I really belong to a certain place, city, country, society or anything. I always loved travelling and could imagine to live anywhere else on this beautiful earth, there are so many places that for me – for several reasons – seem to be much more livable than let’s say Germany. There are so many places I haven’t seen yet and would like to see! Primarily I prefer a natural surrounding with less people and a way of living, that goes back more to the simple roots. Very small things can make me happy and have a value for me, so I don’t need much. But anyway – wherever and however I live –, I always carry my “little universe” with me and that’s basically my home. You can even say, although I’m still part of this society, i always tried and try to look at all from a more external perspective to free myself as much as possible from all these human built systems, structures and influences. At the same time I look very deep into the inside to understand the inner truth behind all these surfaces.
I’m sure, that all the people on this planet mainly have the same inner fights and problems. I consider myself primarily as a human being of this planet and my work also relates to all the humans on the whole planet. So the answer to your question is: the background for my work is first and foremost my own little universe and planet earth with all living creatures on it.

While living in Berlin, I got caught up in the cultural and artistic turmoil, as so many things are happening there. On the one hand, Germany seems to offer both the space and means for artists nowadays, but on the other hand, most of this experience seems to center on a constant flux from gallery to pub, meeting fellow artists and so on. Do you think this setting is profitable for the creative process overall?

I think it’s a good setting as long as there is a healthy distance to the scene and a balance between such activities and making art.

Is the “artworld” more hermetic and restricted to small circles these days, while paradoxically claiming openmindness?

It’s always a balancing act between the acceptance in the “scenes” and your own position.
For example my way of doing art with its various expressions using different medias keeps me in touch with different scenes.
It’s funny, ’cause all scenes – including the art scene – have things in common and for sure not only the best things.
So trying to find a way of interaction, that strengthens my position on the market, as well as keeping my individuality as an artist.

How important is having a university degree in Arts for you, and by extension, in Germany to make your way through?

I think, today a university degree in arts is not the most important thing – degrees in common have not that importance anymore, if you ask me. Don’t understand me wrong, I think a good education only is useful and there’s also nothing wrong about a university degree, but in the end it’s just a piece of paper, that shows not much about your actual abilities and state of development. Most important is your personality, what you do, your own experiences, development and work. All that speaks for itself. The degree is the cherry on the cake. People go to school and then to university and after some years of study, they have to get along with the tools they’ve learned in “real life” and then they realize, that this isn’t easy at all and that learning never stops with getting a degree – actually then at the latest it really starts! I see big firms today, that don’t give much on a university degree, much more important for them are your actual personal abilities, mental flexibility, creativity and your practical work. Of course you can collect a lot of experiences and learn much by a university study, but there are also many other ways – and there have to be other ways.
As an artist for first and all life long you have to be open, interested and active and think with your own head, feel with your own heart and soul, be your own teacher, try out things and experiment and learn as much as you can. I have experienced and learned a lot of very different things in my life – also at university –, but I consider all equally. This made me what I am today and my inner growth process never stops. There’s never a recipe how to become this or that and be successful – anyway, success for everybody is something different and everybody has different aims in life. You always must find out what you really want by yourself, make your own decisions and go your own way.

Your photographic body of work centers on self–portraiture. Why have you chosen to have yourself as a model in the photos?

All started, when I got an instant camera in my hands in 1997. I was curious and it was the first natural desire and activity for me, to explore and express myself by photographing myself. I still have these very strong photos.
Later then I wanted to expand and concentrate more on the part in front of the camera, so I started several collaborations with photographers. I’ve had some very intensive collaborations over many years and still sometimes work together with other artists like Lilya Corneli. But I never stopped self–portraiture and today even mainly focus on it for several reasons. It needs experience and sure instinct, because it’s a double challenge and i have developed my technical methods that work. But sometimes i just wish to be able to clone myself, so i can be in front and behind the camera at the same time!

How does the position differ from being behind the camera to posing in front of it? Are you comfortable with both those perspectives?

Yes, I’m comfortable with both. Photography always has been an important medium for me. For many years i did analogue photography, which i still very much appreciate, but today I’m primary using digital imaging and post processing.

Could we still talk about a critical distance between artist and artwork, when one is also part of the setting/ concept?

Critical distance and reflection are very important for the creative process and result. For me it makes no difference, if I’m the object or anybody/ anything else – the major focus is on the artwork itself and what it needs.

One of your interesting collaborations was with costume designer Annemarie Bulla, for whom you did a photostories with yourself and puppets. Why the interest in puppets for this series? Were you trying to draw some parallels between models/humans and inanimate objects?

The puppet theme and puppets are important for my art in several ways. During my study I also did stop–motion– fim with puppets, I love puppets and creating puppets by myself. I relate much to puppets and can transport my feelings with them. Especially with the marionette. The marionette is controlled by the puppet player, I’m guided by my intuition/creative will. Anet Strusinski alias Anima Pompon ( from Zurich, Switzerland made the woolen puppets.
She won a price with her The Winston Dandy Family and got the possibility to exhibit them in Zurich. She asked me, if I would like to do a photo series with them to exhibit together with the puppets. I was delighted and so the puppets travelled to Hamburg and i had a great time, creating a little photo–story with them and myself in it.
Annemarie Bulla is another costume designer I worked with on several projects. Mainly as a model, makeup artist and photographer for her dresses like Die Harpyie – a female demon birdlike creature in a “raisorblade– dress”, or her last project Die abjekte Mutter, which thematises disgust and the role of the woman as a mother. She created an extraordinary dress with latex.
I also worked with: The unique spats by Maide (, Hats by Topsy Turvy Design (www., A mask by Tanith Hicks / Symphony of Shadows (

Art for you also means to create “something out of nothing, while at the same time you seem to relate to past eras through your work, both aesthetically and conceptually. In a sense, this could be considered bricolage, do you believe we could talk about this ex nihilo state in the post–modern era that we live in?

“To create something out of nothing ” just describes my intuitive way of creative working. Actually I’m not so much a conceptual artist, usually my ideas are not completely finished in my head before. I have a vision, an idea, a thought, a feeling, a song or something else that inspires me – I have a direction. Of course I also plan, arrange and prepare to a certain necessary degree, but mainly I intuitively follow this direction and try to transform the intensity of my vision into the chosen medium. My strong point is my intuition, it’s an important part of my creative process to play, to try and improvise, to see what happens and what works for the picture in which way. It’s exciting and i love to free myself and look at the world around me “without knowing and categorising” the things I see – and use them in a maybe unusual and unexpected way. It’s like looking with a third eye or through the things.

You argue that “Life is art and art is life”, which, in turn, erases the boundaries between reality and fiction, artwork and artist. Is it easier to adopt this stand nowadays than some years ago?

I think art always is a twilight zone between reality and fiction with a boarder that is relative. All that you can imagine is possible in a philosophical way.
I always tried and try to find out and trust my own feelings and thoughts and follow this truth. I’m a very sensitive and intuitive person. It’s the same part of my life and my art. I don’t make a difference, it’s a whole philosophy of natural creative being, living and growing.

You are also a model for other photographers, how does a collaboration usually develop? Are the artists persons you already know and have some former information on their background and approach?

In general collaborations of any kind can come up in different ways – mostly through internet or “real life”. It’s quite easy… if someone finds someone’s work interesting, they get in contact and if there’s a common ground and all fits, a project can be planned and started. I love to work with people I have already successfully worked together with, which I know and appreciate for their being and work. It’s great to have a long grown artistic relationship, where you understand each other and act like one, where you enrich and complete each other – without many words. But in the same way I’m always curious and open for new people and experiences.

You described yourself as not being “just a model”, do you also get involved in the conceptual part of a photoshoot? How flexible are the collaborations and who brings what in the work?

There is no common rule in my collaborations. Mostly they have been 50/50 regarding ideas and realisation. It’s like we look into a certain direction together and try to get there.

Although I am not a fan of the term “alternative”, there seems to be a growing “alternative model”/photography scene in Germany. Are there any artists/models you would like to work with?

I have always been interested in what’s going on and watched the world around me and what others do. Until today this so called “alternative photography scene” or however to call it has grown a lot. Basically i see it positive, cause in this age of industry and globalisation, many people are on the search for sense and for themselves and try out creative things to express their individualities. Art is perfect for that and everybody can do it. I think as long as some of us have such a desire, there is still a healthy tendency in this society. On the other hand, also in this “scene” I see critical points like superficiality and arbitrariness.
I’m always open to work with and for other artists, if there’s a common ground, a certain quality and professionalism.

Some of your photos also play with fetishist elements. Would you expand to more fetish orientated visual art as well?

What is fetish? It’s just a specific preference and passion. Sensuality and eroticism are always part of my art. I’m a butterfly that likes to fly everywhere. For some time I tried out a lot in the fetish direction, but for sureit won’t expand especially the fetish orientated visual art.
I just pick out things from everywhere, that I need to express myself.

What are your thoughts on nudity in both performance and photography nowadays? Overused or should it be used more?

I think the answer is quite easy: What you need to show to display your certain individual imagination and vision, you need to show. It’s always the choice of the artist, how to make the message/impression of the art the “right way”. First there should always be the question, what the art needs.
If the message needs nudity, then there should be nudity. If not, then no nudity. It’s the same with all other questions how to formulate or present a message/impression. And it’s always the decision of the artist, how to formulate his art.
Regarding me: It never was easy for me to be naked in front of other people, cause I’m quite shy, but when i felt, that the art needed nudity, it was ok for me. You can’t say use more or less nudity – for example, when a painter decides to paint a picture, then you also can’t tell him to paint people with or without clothes or to use more or less blue colour, but more red – it’s his vision and he chooses the tools and ways to display it.

What I found interesting is that you are also a make–up artist. When did you become interested in that field? I always loved to draw and paint. Make–Up is nothing but painting the face and/or body to complete an artistic work as a whole.

The use of Make–Up was very natural for me and it has always been part of my artistic expression.
I have made some practical experiences in theater and since then I’m always learning and experimenting.

Make–up also implies creating masks and personas. Do you believe one’s own individuality is erased through the process or is it just a revealing other facets of the spectrum?

Make–Up is a very strong medium, that makes nearly everything possible. The question is, how and for which purpose you use it.
I always try to work out, how it could emphasise my artistic vision. I love using Make–Up and it’s a very important part of my self–portrayal and photography. I use it to accent certain parts of my personality, my feelings or my thoughts, as well as to explore new or different facettes. Who am I and what could I be? I’m always changing and growing. This is the nature of life itself.
I call my photos just “Face(tte)s of Maria”. It’s like a puzzle: All these parts – the different and contrary they might appear! – considered in their entire shape a picture of myself. The same, when I portrait other people: What do I see in this person? I try to make inner aspects visible and play with personality and roles. This enriches as well the artistic process as the personal development.

You are also a part of the audio–visual project Lady Bloody Mary together with Marco Reinbold. What is the concept behind that and what made you choose this name for it?

Lady Bloody Mary is the audiovisual project of Marco Reinbold. I joined it in 2005, cause we were on the same wavelength and just fit together – in our vision as well as personally, we have been a couple for three years. It was a fundamental artistic collaboration. Marco did the music and I did Performance and all visual things, but we always worked together very close to bring our visions alive by transforming it with different medias – music, performance, artwork, photography and film. Our experimental shortfilm Unzweins has been nominated at several short film festivals. Mainly our topic was the decline of a fragile individual, that suffers and breaks because of inner/outer conflicts.

Lady Bloody Mary is a duo and, in many ways, two persons seem fitting for this project. What are you planning for future performances and releases?

Lady Bloody Mary is Marco Reinbold. We walked together for some years and presented two albums together. For two years now the project in this form is standing still – for the reason, that we always did everything by ourself, put much lifeblood, effort, time and money in it, never had any support and somehow lost our energy on the way and more and more concentrated on other aims. Lady Bloody Mary is still existing and Marco is still active, but we both have changed and I’m sure, today we would do something new and different. Actually I’m not sure, if and how I will appear in this project again in future. But Marco and I are still artistically connected, so let’s see what happens next!

How about your personal work, any projects in development at the moment?

I’m always active in a creative way and work on different kind of art. My fields are drawing/painting/illustration, photography/digital art, design, (trick)film, objects (puppets/accessoires/ costumes/requisites/stages), styling/make–up, performance and writing.
Mostly I’m working on new (self)portraits, doing commissioned work and searching for possibilities to publish, exhibit and sell my work.
In addition I’m working as a freelancer in the areas of design and journalism/ editorial/word/language.
The next big scheme will be my diploma project to finish my study at the University Of Applied Sciences in Hamburg (HAW / Department Design).

Artwork: Maria Mann. White Pain, Self-portrait. Courtesy of the artist

questions by Diana Daia

Full article here.



The following article was published in N-SPHERE April 2011 issue.


Name: Christopher Conn Askew

Location: My soul is in Antarctica, my mind is in Dreamland, and my body is, at the moment, in San Francisco.

Occupation: I feel like my work is very illustrative in style, so I tend to describe myself as an illustrator, but I almost never take commissions anymore, and the only commercial work I’ll do is for book publishers, and that very rarely. I spend most of my time drawing and painting whatever I like, so perhaps painter would be a more accurate term.

Definition of personal sphere: The worlds I hold inside.

Artwork in 4 words: Martyrdom, luxury, nocturnal, mystery.

What is inspirational for you: I derive most of my inspiration from dream states (natural or induced), incessant reading and music, and from cats.

Currently favourite artists: Most of my very favorite artists have long since perished, but there are many contemporary artists whose work I adore. I’m sure that later I’ll think of all kinds of names I would add, but, off the top of my head, here goes: Maruo Suehiro, Jessica Joslin, Jared Joslin, Walton Ford, Balint Zsako, Julie Heffernan, Horoshi Hirakawa, Tor Lundvall, Fuyuku Matsui, Vania Zouravliov, Nick Blinko, Tino Rodriguez…

Tools of trade: Pencils, crowquill pens, brushes, inks and paints, heavy papers, drafting equipment, nail polish, gold leaf, cigarettes.

Current obsessions: Blind Ganges river dolphins, Spain, transcendence, printmaking, concertinas, ontology.

Personal temptation: To take up a monastic lifestyle.

Artwork: Fox


Full article here.



The following article was published in N-SPHERE April 2011 issue.


What will you write in your big black book when the time comes? Will you write that you are wise? Will you write that you are just? Will you write that you spilled blood and waged wars? Or will you write that you remained hidden between its pages, yearning for some divine intervention, or that you ran overcome with fear from the horrors of the unfulfilled pale sketches of desires? The poetry embroidered in your breath flows like quicksand through the carmine seconds… flowers wither and die, perfect retainers of a newborn clan leader.

You were being looked upon with vicious lustful eyes, wondering about the warmth of your thighs that spawned the creatures of rebellion, and your loins trembling with victory. Sentenced to relive the pain you felt that day over and over again, you find the path of atonement to be burdened by your own clueless nature, a poisoned nebula spinning out of control. And, if one were to ask, you still can’t figure out what suits you best, the twilight or the darkness, yet I recognize the jacket you’re wearing, the outfit of a simpler time.

You put up a sign, screaming for vengeance, in need of a pillar at the premature end of your time as an innocent scholar of celestial spheres. You put up an elegant fight with your mutation through days of thunder and despair. And just when you were about to give up and give in, someone decided it could not turn a blind eye to your endeavors anymore.

Late was the hour the puppeteer was hailed into the room…

text & artwork by Bahak B

Full article here.