Some of my more solo posts are going to seem a bit like a dream sequence. Simply walking along, things will seem like a sketch, with macabre touches of tendrils and body parts coming from the lines of texture; the tongues from chandeliers lowering to lick his arm. And when he's playing his cello, things take a slightly more orange hue, metallic, golden curls springing from his strings and curling again as he plays.
But only through his eyes. The eyes of sadistic creativity.