She Loves Me Not

The idea for this digital art popped up around 2am, when my mind was playing out scenes of queerly anomalous and calamitous theatrics that awoke me from my prodigious sleep. I dare not expose my eyes at such an unholy hour to the preternatural light of a monitor to render such visions into artwork. So, with patient resolve, I waited until the sun lifted the veil of night to present this to you.

The title is a reference to the inexpressible horrors enamored paramours inflict on flowers as ancient mythical superstitions of love circulate in their minds. “They love me, they love me not”, is often said, as they mindlessly pluck petals from the decapitated flower in hand; with the last petal attesting to the binary nature of ones feelings towards them. Then, assured of the result, they move on to the next flower or wander away, cheerfully humming, whilst leaving destruction in their wake.

This is all tongue in cheek, of course. I wanted to see if I could put a Lovecraftian spin on an innocuous action. Did I succeed?

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