Mike's Hypermodern Musings

Imagine staring at your wall... and feeling the universe stare back.   Not with judgment. With invitation . A fractal star, laser-etched in obsidian black, pulsing with ember interfaces that whisper: "You're not stuck in this dimension. Leap." That's the Obsidian/Ember Interface. Not just art. A filament core —your personal warp gate to cosmic clarity. For $55 NZD, it arrives ready-to-hang, transforming blank walls into black holes of inspiration. If you're a sci-fi soul (Dune deep-diver? Cyberpunk 2077 grinder? Just a human craving stars over screensavers), this is your sign. Keep reading—I built this piece from my own "creative void" nightmare. By the end, you'll wonder how you lived without it.   Secure your portal now.   The Black Hole in Your Space (The Pain That Started It All) Let's get real. You're here because something's off . Your office feels like a cubicle cryo-pod: Beige walls sucking the life out of your 9-to-5. No wond...

" Machine Core: Nanobot Abstraction " 2025 - z3vios (M J TEKA) Acrylite-faced archival pigment print.  Acquired for immediate placement in forward-thinking corporate and private collections. One does not merely “hang” this work. One submits the wall to it. At first encounter the viewer confronts an icosahedral monolith of liquid titanium (twenty perfect facets, each a mirror that refuses flattery).  The geometry is absolute, almost arrogant in its Platonic certainty. Then the infection reveals itself: a subcutaneous lattice of arterial crimson and molten magma-orange filaments, self-replicating across the metallic skin like a trillion von Neumann probes discovering the pleasures of flesh. This is not a depiction of the post-human. This is the post-human gazing back, amused, already halfway through metabolizing the frame. Chiaroscuro is weaponised here : rim-lighting carves the polyhedron from an abyss so pure it feels vacuum-sealed, while internal bioluminescent pulses (s...

You’ve closed eight-figure deals, built a company that moves markets, and still, when a Fortune-500 client walks into your headquarters, the first thing they see is… a blank wall the color of cheap printer paper. That silence is expensive. It quietly undermines every signal of permanence, taste, and forward-thinking authority you’ve spent decades constructing. In under three seconds, the subconscious verdict is rendered: “Successful, yes. Visionary? Not quite.” There is a fix, and it’s simpler—and far more profitable—than you think. Introducing “An Ornate Study in Shadow and Light” This is not another mass-produced hotel-lobby print. This is a museum-grade, made-to-order masterwork that feels like it was commissioned for a 14th-century banking house that somehow discovered quantum physics. Imagine a vast gothic vault rendered in absolute obsidian and charcoal. Ribbed arches and impossibly intricate geometries recede into infinity, interrupted only by needle-thin blades of pure li...