Genur.art

Unique sexually charged topological shapes, minimalistically fluctuating through the temporal glitch-space, Farther still, past the halls and into the arterial labyrinth, the sounds of tools against stone echo. The artisans still labour, they still create. Their work, however, is a lonely and comfortless affair. The artistic expression of those who once carved monuments to commemorate the true and just has now been reduced to the task of engraving the names of those who have died upon the stone lips of unmarked graves. They sculpt under the watchful eyes of stone-faced overseers, supervisors of the void, the unseen wardens who seldom speak. The overseers care not for the artisans' finished product, they care only that work continues.