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Inspired byCreate a surreal image that represents, in a minimal way, the following concept:"There may be infinite ways to arrive at the inevitable." walking on the moon Very balanced dreamlike composition, in style by LeRoy Neiman and Jamie Heiden Warm colors Churrigueresque Psychosomatic Magicalism: a maximalist visual-literary movement where magical realism collides with surrealism, expressionism, psychedelic collage and postmodern association. Ordinary objects open into dreams, memories, philosophy, art history and absurd jokes. Like Churrigueresque architecture, every detail sprouts another detail; like Escher, scenes fold recursively into themselves. Portuguese blue-and-white azulejos spread across surfaces in elaborate cobalt narrative patterns, merging architecture, figures, foliage, animals, arabesques and miniature scenes. Horror vacui governs the composition: almost every available space becomes ornament, image or another world opening inside the first. Meaning emerges through unexpected connections: intricate, colourful, atmospheric, nonlinear, densely layered and strangely alive.no text.
The furniture arrived on Tuesday, although nobody had ordered it.
That was the first problem.
The second problem was that it was alive.
Not alive in the ordinary biological sense. The chair did not breathe and the table did not require feeding. But when I sat down, the chair remembered somebody else sitting in it—somebody living approximately four hundred years from now on a planet where fish had become the dominant religious authority.
I discovered this because a mackerel appeared above the coffee table and asked for my identification.
“I live here,” I said.
“That is not identification.”
“It’s my apartment.”
“That is an ontological assertion.”
This worried me.
By Wednesday the living room had become a cosmic aquarium. Fish swam through the walls without damaging them. Tiny moons accumulated beneath the sofa. A blue bird perched on the lamp and began repeating sentences I had not yet thought.
Then the furniture started rearranging itself.
The bookcase became a staircase.
The staircase became a moon.
The moon developed drawers.
Inside the third drawer I found myself walking away from me.
He wore a hat I have never owned.
“Where are you going?” I called.
“To find the manufacturer.”
“Of the furniture?”
“Of us.”
That seemed unnecessarily ambitious.
I followed him.
We crossed a yellow planet that had apparently been hiding beneath the carpet. Beyond it stood enormous blue-and-white structures covered in vegetation, eyes, birds, fish, doors, and smaller versions of the same structures. Every doorway contained another universe furnished exactly like my apartment, except that in one I was dead, in another I had never been born, and in a third I was a fish arguing with a chair about whether human beings actually existed.
The chair had the stronger case.
Eventually we reached the aquarium.
It was the size of God’s waiting room.
Planets floated like bubbles. Fish moved between them. Human beings stared outward through circular windows, apparently unaware that they were exhibits.
My double stopped.
“Do you understand?”
“No.”
“Good. Understanding is how it catches you.”
“How what catches you?”
He pointed behind me.
My apartment was sitting there.
The lamp was on.
The chair waited patiently.
And suddenly I understood the terrible thing about furniture.
You think you own it because it stays where you put it.
But perhaps furniture is simply the part of the universe assigned to keep you in one place.
I went home anyway.
There was nowhere else to sit.
