Zulmiro painted smoke and portals and strange little details that no one could make sense of. He himself saw unicorns and dragons in street corners, looking out of windows in somber evenings or hiding in plain sight under street lamps in pools of light at night, and he could make no sense of them either. He went through his days with a pencil and a brush behind his ear.

Sometimes he even saw demons and weird fairies half asleep in tree branches. He wanted to capture their forms and their essence but ended up with painted smoke and portals and nothing else. His hands had a will of their own. There was nothing he could do to stop them.

He even tried painting portraits but his customers weren't delight when they saw the blurry forms of the finished product that resembled them not one bit.

Zulmiro didn't know yet, no one did except for a discarded doll abandoned in a corner of his room, that he was a painter of souls, a scribe of the unseen...

---

Fractal Fiction

---

⠶

---

Process

---

⠶

---

---

⠶

---

❤ If you like my work, upvote & follow. All support is much appreciated. ❤

ETH: 0xc810f58cf48bb5ea8594829ec568d1f50f08a2b0

---

⠶

---

Thank You!

---

⠶

---