Flicker of Remains Eyes once bright now collapse into pits of black noise. The face seems to breathe between bursts of color and rot, as if trying to wake from its own ending. The bacteria here are loud — a riot of reds, yellows, and greens breaking through tissue like wild graffiti reclaiming an abandoned wall. The glitch shows us the last spark, the moment when the self is finally outnumbered by new life.

The Forgotten :Time doesn’t stop when the heart does. Death feels like an ending, but the body becomes a slow celebration of other lives the moment it goes still. Skin cracks, color spreads like spilled paint, and new movement rises in the quiet. Bacteria swarm and build invisible cities; insects carve roads where veins once carried warmth; spores settle like quiet architects, turning what we once called “me” into ground and fuel. The glitching of these portraits catches the flicker between what was human and what is still alive — the silent takeover of small forces erasing the years we spent growing into shape. It is a reminder and a warning: the living always feed on the dead, and we are only visitors in our own skin.

“What you leave behind doesn’t wait — it devours.” AKA Chambo

(Digital Artwork) made in 2024

(aAl work is made with 1 painting, procreate, and some video magic)