Smashing with style
Filter of Frenzy
Ripped-off beyond recognition and left for dead
"No, your Honour; I didn't do anything. I just took the dog for a walk until it was dead."
Together, me and the filter formed a third personality, which neither of us could talk any sense to.
Art grows out of the barrel of a photoshop filter.
The smaller they get, the more I see.
Every chop is different. And I try to choose the best one. But they all look good.
The author called it "Slice" which to me suggests something simple and restrained like the careful preparation of a sample for a microscope slide. Perhaps he never conceived of this "Feast of Knives" effect, or if he had, would have been unable to imagine anyone finding a use for something like that.
I keep thinking, just one more chop and we'll turn the corner; one more chop and the effect will take a quantum leap and start forming new wonders. Deep down in it's algorithmic DNA some gene, so far only weakly expressed, will become like a crystal, suddenly bringing order and magnificence to the supersaturated solution. But no. Like everything else, it moves onward to its logical conclusion, and returns to dust.