!["Birdland on Fifty-Three
The street sounds like a symphony
We got John Coltrane and A Love Supreme
Miles says she's got to be an angel
Lady Day got diamond eyes
She sees the truth behind the lies
Angel"
- Bono, Angel of Harlem lyrics [excerpt]
PICNIC AT THE END OF THE WORLD:
A visual saga of dissociation and multiversal grace.
This is not an apocalypse,
It’s a picnic at the event horizon of our shared hallucination
In a time when reality is glitching at the seams
when our phones know us better than our lovers,
when dreams bleed into algorithms,
and when time is a bad joke we keep forgetting the punchline to...
we lay out a blanket
We sit down
We remember what it means to feel
This series, born from psychedelic visions and late-night existential spirals, draws from Donnie Darko’s fatalistic mysticism and Terrence McKenna’s psychedelic prophecy. It asks:
What if you’re not just one person?
What if this isn’t the only Earth?
What if time is a loop, a mobius strip, a broken record you can dance to?](https://verse.works/image/source/static%2Fuploads%2F0xb707e6a673ac13b958f86c7355b2edc90caa9904%2Fd5d30086-e31f-469a-8104-d7fc3fbba16d.gif)
ANGELUS + DAEMONIUM
"Birdland on Fifty-Three
The street sounds like a symphony
We got John Coltrane and A Love Supreme
Miles says she's got to be an angel
Lady Day got diamond eyes
She sees the truth behind the lies
Angel"
- Bono, Angel of Harlem lyrics [excerpt]
PICNIC AT THE END OF THE WORLD:
A visual saga of dissociation and multiversal grace.
This is not an apocalypse,
It’s a picnic at the event horizon of our shared hallucination
In a time when reality is glitching at the seams
when our phones know us better than our lovers,
when dreams bleed into algorithms,
and when time is a bad joke we keep forgetting the punchline to...
we lay out a blanket
We sit down
We remember what it means to feel
This series, born from psychedelic visions and late-night existential spirals, draws from Donnie Darko’s fatalistic mysticism and Terrence McKenna’s psychedelic prophecy. It asks:
What if you’re not just one person?
What if this isn’t the only Earth?
What if time is a loop, a mobius strip, a broken record you can dance to?