The Liquid Abstracts
100 unique digital abstracts on-chain.
Saturated color, fluid form, nothing to represent but themselves.
This collection started with a question I didn't know I was asking:
What happens when you push software past its intended use? Gradients layered in Photoshop. Blend modes (Difference, Subtract, Divide) creating compositions I couldn't predict at the time. I'd run the system, watch for surprises, and crop what felt right.
Then naming; turning abstract forms into almost-recognizable moments.
Hot Banana
Bubblegum Farts
Hoops
Polaroid Mercury
The names guide, but they don't dictate. What I see in these shapes isn't what you'll see, and that's the work. Each piece functions as a kind of mirror. You bring your own breakfast memories, your own sense of color, your own "wait, is that a...?"
Visually, they live in saturated color and fluid form. Organic shapes that flow and overlap, creating unexpected meetings. Hot pink bleeding into cyan, lime green pressing against deep purple. Some compositions float against dark, almost black backgrounds. Others are all brightness, color on color with no rest for the eye.
The forms themselves refuse geometry. They're liquid, soft-edged, shape-shifting. Where two colors meet, they don't just touch. They blend, creating tertiary moments that weren't in either original layer.
This is what happens when technical operations, intended to be invisible, are pushed until they become the aesthetic.
The math shows its work.
The accident becomes the style.
These are decorative in the best sense. Whether printed, hung, or on mobile screen. They don't demand interpretation. They just ask for a moment of attention. A willingness to let vibrant, saturated color do what it does when freed from representing anything but itself.
100 pieces. My first collection.
The one that taught me accidents could be curated into intention.
No two are the same. No grand narrative. Just a catalog of visual moments, each one a small discovery frozen in place.