CLASH

...deep down, beneath a bruised, static-heavy sky ridden with heavy electric/static zapping storm clouds, the sprawling techno-dystopian cityscape is choked not just by concrete, but by aggressive, iridescent vines that twist around rusted steel, their engineered orchids, ivy lotus flowers and more relics of an aeon ready to re-emerge...

lost in a vast, unsettling meadow where the wind carries the heavy, narcotic scent of wild poppies, and the petals shift colors like a glitched digital display, blurring the line between the surreal futurism and the intoxicating nostalgia of mother earth