That Fleshy Substance
The infectious influence of Polish artist Zdzislaw Beksinski is all over games, and he never knew it.
It has no correlation with any real-life substance. It resembles bone, but is too fine and branches too strangely. There are joints here and there, clasped around a trumpet neck, or splayed against a plaster wall. Though it is difficult to imagine them hinging, ossified as they are. Sometimes it appears to be a strata of flinty rock, chipped at uneven angles to reveal the fossilised structures of ancient wing struts beneath. Or are these accretions? Like those in flowstone caves; layer after layer of mineral salts describing a bulbous and suggestive form. Either way, staring at this surface, picking at it, I can’t help but feel drawn in, as if I was descending into a world where anatomy and geology were the twin architects of unsteady dreams.
