the fertile fluid
the son of the wind, forgotten on the island of love, destroyed by the souls of men and punished by Poseidon
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the silence of the horizon intoxicates me, nothing can be more soothing than the desert in the world stretched by green fog, where atavistic corpses intertwine with simulacra and kites that travel next to ephemeral androcephals and raise their agony in steam /////// a project from classic sketches passed through A.I. filters, by CATALIN NEGREA
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ephemeral sphinx
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