Some guy standing at the mouth of this impossible tunnel. Everything's made of these frantic blue swirls, like someone went nuts with a ballpoint pen. Sky's not sky—just spirals. Ground's not ground—more spirals. The figure's tiny, dark, almost an afterthought. His shadow stretches weirdly long. Whole thing feels like being sucked into a drain or a really bad dream about infinity. Cream paper showing through everywhere. Handmade. Obsessive.
