The smooth plane of free web hosting.

"As soon as a body appears to have lost motion by its passage from the state of life to what is improperly called death, it tends, from that very moment, towards dissolution; yet dissolution is a very great state of motion. There is, therefore, no moment when the body of the animal is at rest; it never dies; but because it no longer exists for us, we believe that is no longer exists at all. Bodies are transmuted... metamorphosed, but they are never inert. Inertia is absolutely impossible for matter whether matter is organized or not. Weigh these truths carefully and you will see where they lead and what a twist they give to human morality." - Marquis de Sade

"and Witcyst ... honestly makes the rest of us look like try-hard babies." - Stefan Neville

"It's a thankless job, and no one really has to do it."
As you immerse yourself in Witcyst's output it eventually sinks in that this isn't just a "bunch of weird stuff on the internet" but actually a bunch of weird stuff on the internet that one person has made, which begs the question of why he bothers.
Is this Witcyst's first art show? I don't know, maybe. It doesn't matter. He attracts detritus, moves it around, a coiling amorphousness, a hall of broken mirrors, occupying the vanishing point. Here it is again, the "death of the artist," subsuming the individual into the infinity of material surrounding us.
In spite of myself, my mind turns to the third verse of "Sweet Jane." "You know, that women never really faint." By which I mean that art, by itself, is a generous thing.