A Serial Killer With Soigné

A Serial Killer With Soigné

By: Dax Gage

WARNING: Material is graphic in nature

(Photos to Follow)

“She uses a tetrodotoxin,

Isolated from the liver of a Caribbean puffer fish

to paralyze her victims

while leaving all their other neurological functions in tact.”

-Arnold Van Wyk, Cape Argus

Evidence Exhibit A

A Back Story from the notes of marriage Councilor Dr. Melisandre Durra:

After successfully becoming a certified pharmacist, she left college to travel in the Caribbean. She fell in love with the small islands, the sunny whether and warm waters. There she discovered the delicacy of the puffer fish and leant of its secret poison.

She was only supposed to spend six months in the Caribbean but after 2 years she finally returns home. But she wasn’t alone. She met a man she would later marry. They return home together. In due time they got married and started the rest of their lives together.

13 Years Later:

She’s alone. Her husband had walked out. After all she had done. The relationship had been dwindling for years. She had tried everything. She was utterly devoted to him. She did everything, made sure the house was clean, made sure he had dinner waiting for him as soon as he walked through the door. She was even willing to do anything he wanted in the bedroom. Yet it just wasn’t enough.



One evening she was preparing dinner from him. She would always set the table the same way, setting his food at the head and hers at his right. She would always stand by his chair, waiting for him. At precisely eight ‘o clock she knew he would walk through that door.

First Explosion

The clock strikes eight and nothing happens. She shifts her weight. Still standing by his chair as she always had. A few minutes pass and she starts to feel uncomfortable.

‘Maybe he’s running late’. She tells her self.

10 minutes pass. An hour. Three hours. She waits all night for him but he never comes home. Not one world, no mention of leaving. All his possessions just their, where he had left them. He was just gone. She snapped. The loss. The relationship that had suffocated her for so long was now over. She had lived for him and now he was gone.



She felt no sense of freedom only that of loss. She was trapped suffocating alone. Her power was lost to her. He held it all and now he was gone. She had no release. No closure. No way out. Until she met Peter.



A few days after his sudden departure. She calls her brother, Paul. Her brother had always been their for her no matter what. He was her rock, her constant. He was livid when she told him.

9 Months pass:

Paul convinces her to go on a blind date. After months of being lost she finally agrees. His name is Peter, she reminded her of him and she had liked that at first.



Paul had convinced her. He installed security systems for a living. Including camera systems, which he always placed spyware on so he could watch the people he fancied. He was a voyeur and loved to watch his favorite subjects go about their day.


She decides that the best way to go about her date is to do what she knows. She decides to have him for dinner.


She cooks for Peter like she had done for HIM so many times before. She places peters dinner plate in front of him like she had done for HIM so many times before.


Something in her just lets go. The next thing she knows she’s kissing him. His hands move all over her body exploring her for the first time.

2nd Explosion

She lets go of his embrace; taking his hand she leads him upstairs to her bedroom.


She takes off her clothes and straddles him. A naughty look in her eye. A cheeky grin upon her face. A soft moan of pleasure escapes her lips. Her hands find his throat. She starts to squeeze not yet realizing what she’s doing, lost in the moment of primal tranquility. Her eyes are closed when he starts to squirm, as her grip starts to tighten. Her thrusts get more vigorous. His flaying too. Her hands are vice grip tight. She lets out a loud moan. Gasping for air as she reaches her climax. Peter lies still as stone. She catches her breath and feels alive for the first time in years. The vines suffocating her heart are gone. She dismounts him lying beside his lifeless body. She has never felt so free. Reality hits her. She realizes what she’s done. The severity. She has to get rid of the body. She calls her brother

Evidence Exhibit B

Victim Report:

Victim 0: Peter Grant, Found half decomposed in white PVC Plastic barrel containing 12 liters of HCL (hydrochloric Acid)

“She got lucky with Peter.

He lived alone, he had no family, no pets no friends.

The only reason a missing persons report was filed was because his neighbor hadn’t seen Mr. Grant get his paper in weeks.”

-Detective Andrew Wiley, Lead Detective


She new about her brother’s voyeuristic tendencies. She demanded all his feeds. Her brother had never denied her anything before and this time was no different.

For months she watches, waiting for the right victim, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She slowly narrows down her list to just a few names. Until she finally decides on one. His name is Joshua Kattly. He also lives alone. He has a specific routine. He wakes up every morning, has a shower, makes a cup of coffee, smokes a cigarette, and feeds his dog, then goes to work. He finishes work at five, takes the same route home everyday, he takes his dog for an evening run, has supper and goes to bed.

She liked watching Joshua. She liked the simplicity of his life, like how it lacked drama. He never lived beyond his means. And during the months she had watched him Joshua never brought a soul home. No friends, no lovers, not even his mother came to visit him. The only company her had was his dog. She had learnt in her musing sessions that the dogs name was George.

She had planned everything to the T. Tonight was the night. In between killing Peter and now she had traveled back to the Caribbean. Not for a holiday but for research. After Peters death and the feeling of being trapped had returned. She knew she needed to do it again

In the Caribbean she found a way to import the puffer fish she needed. Who’s secret she had learnt so long ago. Since the Caribbean puffer fish was a delicacy certain highly successful fish restaurants imported the fish to serve on their gourmet menus. Once shed found that out, all she had to do was find one of the five star restaurants, seduce the chef and get the fish. All he needed to know was that she loved puffer fish.

It was easy enough.

Men are so predictable when they think with their pricks.

She arrives at Joshua’s work at about 16:30. He always parked in the corner of the parking lot. That was ideal for hr. She let the air out of two of his tires, went back to her car and lay in waiting. A black widow waiting for her prey.

He arrives at his car, sees the tires Now is her moment to strike. She starts her car and drives towards him. She rolls down her window and says

“Hey hun, need a ride?’

She was a beautiful woman. He a little taken a back responds

“No but thank you”

She smiles and does a little more convincing. He gets in her car and his fate is sealed. She starts driving. He explains that his place is close. She asks if he would like some supper. He says that he should really get back home so he can feed his dog. She places her hand on his thigh.

“Your dog will be fine”. She purrs. He agrees.

They arrive at her place. She shows Joshua a seat, HIS seat. She enters the kitchen. Saying that dinner will only be a moment. She puts on an apron. She approaches him placing the dinner plate on the table. She places her hand on his face looking deep into his eyes. He never even noticed the needle.

It pierces the side of his neck. The poison entering the blood stream with ease. She crouches over him whispering in his ear.

“I just injected you with a tetrodotoxin isolated from the liver of a Caribbean puffer fish. It paralyses you leaving all other neurological functions in tact. In other words you can’t move but you feel everything.”

He tries to move but it’s impossible. He’s prey caught in her web. And she likes to play with her food before she eats it. She walks around him; she starts lecturing, lost in the fantasy. She doesn’t see Joshua, she sees HIM. She shouts at him accusing him of leaving her She begs him, pleads with him. She wants to know why? What she did to make him leave? She claims she did everything for him. She wants to know why. She says she’s leaving, that she’s done. That she doesn’t need him any more.

She takes a finely platted piece of white satin silk out from her apron. The material had come from her wedding dress. She had torn it up during the months of her stranded isolation. She ties it around his neck. She whispers in his ear:

“Goodbye my love”.

She kisses him on the mouth and starts to tighten the satin silk threads.

She texts her brother. He arrives with the acid she had checked out earlier that week along with another plastic PVC drum. They load the body. They don’t say much. He leaves the drum on the dinner table and turns to leave. She pours herself a glass of wine and watches the body begin to slowly dissolve. The next day her brother drives with her to Joshua’s work. He re-inflates the tires of Joshua’s car and drives it to a car junkyard his friend owns. That’s the car gone. He leaves the barrel of acid with his friend in the toxic waste section of the junkyard. She drives to Joshua’s house. Unlocks the door with his key and meets George for the first time. He’s a young friendly Labrador.

She was going to poison the dog too. The injection, a lethal dose for a dog was in her jacket pocket. She couldn’t do it though. The dog had done nothing to her. So she took him for her own. George her new dog. Her last morsel of humanity.

She would come to love George. His unconditional love and devotion. He didn’t know of the wrong she had done, he just loved her. But even all his love couldn’t save her from herself. For she was broken beyond repair. HE had broken her and all the love in the world couldn’t bring her back.

And just like after Peter so it was after Joshua. The freedom She’d won with death was leaving her. The feeling of being trapped would slowly creep back into her life to suffocate her once again.

She would need another victim.

She keeps watching. Her brother keeps installing cameras and alarms and life goes on for a time. She can’t find new prey. And it begins to overwhelm her. Her behavior begins to get gets more erratic. She stops going in to work. George is her only freedom of her isolation.

She hasn’t left the house in days. George lies on her bed with her. Her brother comes a knocking. He says that he’s found her another one. She’s just found a reason to get out of bed. His name was Aaron, one of her brothers ‘favorites’. Her brother had a special short list of people he liked to watch.

She starts watching him and just like before, he was perfect. He lived alone, lived a quiet life, a life of solitude. Just as before. She lays in waiting outside his office. She let out the air in his tires. She offers him a ride just like before. Seduces him into going back to her place just as before. Seats Aaron at HIS table. Puts the apron on and prepares the food just like before and just like before distracts him with her rays of sophisticated sexual prowess before stinging him with her poison.

The feeling of ecstasy retakes her body. Passing over like waves of pleasure. As the life leaves Aarons eyes. Freedom fills her soul.

Just as before the disposal was easy. And just as before her newfound peace derived from death would not last forever.

Evidence Exhibit F

Detectives Report: CA 50678/2015

Detective A. Wiley

During a sanctioned raid on a junkyard known for harboring elicit activity. Three plastic canisters were found with what appears to be human remains inside. DNA testing has taken place and the results as to the identity(ies) of the person or persons is to be reported. The story of the bodies has been leaked to the press and Cape Argus reporter Arnold Van Wyk has dubbed the murderer ‘The Soigné Killer’.

Further investigation will be necessary.

Evidence Exhibit G

Cape Argus Article:

The Soigné Killer Strikes again

A Fourth ‘Body-Barrel’ has been found by a local fisherman early this morning in the Zeekovlei reserve. Police arrived earlier on the scene and Lead Detective Andrew Wiley was not available for questioning. The body appears to be a white male mid 30’s to early 40’s just like the other victims leading speculation to believe that the killer is in fact a women.


References and Inspirations:

Law Abiding Citizen, Film

Stranger than fiction, Film

Breaking Bad, TV Show

Coma White – Marilyn Manson, Song


My Room Maddness

My Room is my kingdom. My little slice of home. In my room everything is everywhere but I know where everything is. If you were entering my room for the first time loud rock music would probably greet you. You’re eyes would scan from left to right trying to take in as much as you can but one quick scan would never do it justice. The blanket on my bed for example I’ve had since the day I was born.

My room makes me feel at home. I park my car and always come through my outside door ad when that door opens I know I’m home. Though I don’t always feel at peace in my room. I’ve made it nice, I’ve destroyed, repaired it, rearranged it all to feel more at home. That being said I love my room. Most of the time when I’m in my room I feel content. Everything in it is mine. Its all the way I want it to be. If I don’t like it I can change it. Its mine, my own and nothing can change that. Yes in my kingdom I’m a king without a crown but a king all the same.

My mom would say that my room is full of ‘crap’ but what its really full of are memories. My blue wall, I painted with an old ex of mine. Ill never forget that day, we put more paint on each other than the actual wall. It was a great day and it’s still a great memory. The graffitied crate. That crate is what the latest edition to the family came in. A chocolate Labrador, Jobs we called him and he was tiny! I never planned on keeping the crate but when I started getting into street art I needed a surface to practice on. The crate earned its place. That is what is interesting about my room although there is a lot of stuff everything has a purpose, whether it be sentimental memorabilia or it has practical everyday application or its just something that’s there because one day I know I’m going to need it.

Whenever I’m in room depending on what I’m doing will determine the way my room looks. For example if I’m just chilling ill be on my bed and my computer will be facing my bed, if I’m working then I sit in my chair and my computer faces me. If I’m being creative though then I could be in one of four places. On my bed, at my desk, at my old smoking spot by my outside door or at my whiteboard.

I have an outside door, which while I’m awake is always kept open. My room has a lot of natural light during the day and that’s the way I like it, that and plenty of fresh air. I don’t like been bottled up in a dark room. I like to see and smell the world especially when I’m writing or trying to be creative.

My white board: for reasons I cant quite explain my whiteboard has a lot of sentimental value to me. The hours I’ve spent in front of that board, leaning up against my TV (which is now gone) searching for meaning, for truth, for understanding. I’ve spent hours in front of that board just feeding an idea I just had. Sometimes It’s filled with tedious admin or errands other times it has deadlines on it, but most of the time its where my concepts go. Where one line turns into many. If the idea is good ill take a photo of it, if its really good ill prescribe it to paper and if its really good, ill type it out. That isn’t how all my concepts start however. I often just write on scrap paper, which is always on my table.

On my white board there is however one constant. There’s always a quote some where on the board. For now it’s the top right hand corner and its by Hemingway: “There’s nothing noble about being superior to your fellow man, true nobility lies in being superior to your former self”. Truer words were never spoken. I wake up every morning and I look at my board. I used to often write inspirational one-liners to motivate my self. Sometimes I just scribble but pretty much always whenever someone comes over and there’s space on the board. They have to write something. This doesn’t bother me on the contrary I rather like it. I like to see what other people have to offer. When I’m being creative I like to pace from my computer (source of the loud music) to my board. Yes the music never stops, “A rolling stone gathers no moss” (another quote from the board). Music is a source of my creativity; it puts me in the mood to write. To wonder off into a daydream until I have something worth using ink on.

I think my room says a lot about me. I’m not a 100% sure what my blue wall says about me but I think it says is that I’m calm and collected, I like o be in calm environments. I’m chilled out, relaxed that I like to do things at my own pace but that I’m also no push over, that I’m a force to be reckoned with. My board says that I’m a knowledge seeker. I’m curious about the world and that I seek knowledge and understanding before most things. I have a picture of a lion hanging on my wall because that’s my favorite animal (and I like to thing of myself as a bit of a lion. A lion among men) that says That I’m proud, family orientated and fierce.

As you can see from one of the photos. I’m very rarely alone in my room. I normally have company; either one, two or even all three of my dogs are with me. My oldest, Charlie, 16, gold. He’s to old to jump on the bed now so he sleeps some where on the ground. Winston, the middle child, 2, black. He’s an ‘aqua puppy’ so he also sleeps on the ground but right next to my bed. If he’s dry he can get on the bed. The youngest Jobs, 1, Chocolate. He’s lazy and always on the bed. Although its not in the photo I think this also says a lot about me. If for example I’m on a roll with a concept ill get excited and tell my ‘honds’.

Finally. In my room there is a ladder. There is nothing on this ladder and there never will be. This ladder, which my mom got for me so id stop pilling clothes on my ottoman, represents growth and progress. It reminds me of where I’ve been and how far I still must go.1 4 5  7 8 9 10 11

The Theory of Colour

For this assignment the narrative world I will be creating is based on the concept for my term project. The concept is called ’A Foreign Truth’ and it revolves around Ashia a young Ugandan girl living in South Africa with her younger sister and sister’s ‘nanny’. I will now break up the concept into the three act structure. The opening scene or intro starts with Ashia on her way home to her younger sister on a beautiful winter’s day. Things take a turn for the worse however and she gets arrested.

The body of the concept takes place entirely in an interrogation room where a police officer begins interrogating her on the legitimacy of her residency here in South Africa. The Police officer has reasons to believe that she is residing in South Africa illegally and unless she can prove otherwise, will be deported immediately. Ashia’s father is still living in Uganda and deporting her wouldn’t be a problem at all. However it turns out Ashia is sitting on a heavy secret. She seems to have run out of options at this point and reluctantly puts everything on the line. She admits to him that she is indeed residing in South Africa illegally and her eyes fill with tears. She tells him the truth, the whole truth. The only reason she’s in South Africa is to protect her sister.

Her father had sent her sister to South Africa so she could have a better life than the one he could provide for her in Uganda. She was too young to travel alone and her father couldn’t afford two visa’s so Ashia’s father sent her younger sister with the nanny her father had had in his employ for years. He was always at work and Ashia was always to scared of what the nanny would do to her little sister if she ever told him. She couldn’t let her sister go with ‘that women’, not alone. She’d kill her.

She explains everything to the police officer, pleads with him. Gives detailed accounts of the abuse her younger sister and her, years ago, had faced. She tells him that she’d rather break the law and know that her sister was safe, rather than not know at all. How could she live and not know if her baby sister was okay. Her other half that always filled her heart with joy and love whenever she looked at her. How could she not know?

The police officer, wise, experienced, hardened by years of service looks at her right in her face and shakes his head. He apologises to her and really means it but his hands are tied. The law is very clear on matters like Ashia’s. There was nothing he could do, his hands were tied.

The story concludes with her being led out of the interrogation room towards the holding cells. They walk down the corridor in silence but instead of heading down stares he leads her to the right. He un-cuffs her and tells her she has six months to legitimise her residency. He recommends that once she’s done that, that she come see him about opening a case against her sisters nanny. He flicks his head towards the double doors at the end of the corridor indicating that it was time for her to go. She opens both doors to the bright light of freedom. Her first thoughts were of her sister and of the policeman who showed her that there was still humanity left in man.

Now that the concept has been broken up into the three act structure. I will now discuss the colour pallet used for each act and the colour pallet used for Ashia and the police officer. I will start by discussing the opening scene. The picture will start with cool colours and will progress to warm colours eventually.

The opening shots will depict a beautiful cool winters day. Light and dark browns of trees, shades of blue for sky and shades of green for grass. I would like to depict the beauty and freedom nature provides. The greens and browns are meant to depict nature and give rise to false feelings of peace and relaxation. The scene dramatically changes when red and blue lights flash on her face. The combination to represent the police but red to resemble danger and blue for the authority that danger commands.

Ashia, herself will be dressed in light blue jeans, she’ll be wearing a light pink top with a grey hoodie over it and a soft yellow scarf. The light blue symbolises a conservative sad nature, the pink her maternal side, the side that cares and feels for her sister. The grey is to solidify that there is sadness in her that the audience doesn’t know yet. By doing this the contrast between the relaxing nature and the sad Ashia cue’s the audience in on the fact that something just isn’t right. Finally her yellow scarf. This is her greatest signifier. It represents her cowardice, her weakness for not standing up to her sister’s nanny, for not telling her father about her. For failing to act.

The interrogation room. This room must be cold. Only one source of light, hanging above the table, wear Ashia sits. The room is much darker at first. It begins to slowly light up. The table is old worn out brown. Its organic History suggests that it’s been there for far too long. People had scribbled all over it. The table symbolises endurance and a sense of solidness. It represents the unwavering nature of the law. Her file sits on the table. Its small, there’s barely anything it. This shows the audience that she’s not a criminal and it implies that this is her first interrogation. The file is a yellow, beige –brown. The walls are solid concrete, unpainted, cracked. I will use various shades of grey. By removing most of the colour in the room the focal point is on Ashia and how out of place she is. Once the interrogation is in full swing and Ashia reveals her full story to the police officer, who is fully in the light now. She removes her yellow scarf and casts it a side. Her removing the yellow from her person represents her removing the cowardice from within herself. It symbolises that she’s not afraid of the consequences, that she’s willing to do anything to protect her sister.

The police officer, he will be in a blue police officers uniform. His top button is undone exposing a black undershirt. When the scene opens he is not directly in the light. His uniform almost appears black. This symbolises Ashia’s mistrust in him and his ambiguity as a character. As the good guys are normally in white. As the story develops the saturation of his uniform grows as he heads more and more into the light as Ashia’s story develops. The blue uniform gives of a sense of authority and power. His black undershirt shirt in the beginning is meant to symbolise power, intimidation along with the dark blue almost black of his uniform. As his good nature is reviled however it symbolises his depth as a character, it introduces some mystery about him. He has a golden wedding ring on his finger. This tells the audience that even though he’s tough he has a heart too.

Finally the corridor and closing shots. The corridor is painted in two tones. The bottom being dark brown and the top being yellowish beige, the two colours are divided by a brown strip of wood on either side of the corridor. The gap created by the wood represents the transition from cold colours to warm colours. The brown and yellowish beige symbolise how harsh the law can be. They turn right however and things start to change. They exchange worlds. It is revealed to the audience that the police officers eyes are green symbolising reliability and optimism. Ashia opens the double doors and white light fills the corridor. As the light adjusts warm yellows, pinks and reds are shown depicted by a beautiful sunset representing hope and freedom. It also symbolises the opportunity for another chance and the transition from stepping out from the darkness and into the light or in Ashia’s case revealing a secret that’s weight was too much to bear.

This world was created for people who have lost hope. For people who don’t see a way out. It was created so people could believe. In African mythology Ashia means hope.












Cinderella’s Not So Happily Ever After

For an Assignment I had to reinvent a fairy tale that would fit into modern society. We had to use a photograph to depict our fairy tale. I chose Cinderella only she never quite makes it to that happily ever after. In the photo the hour glass represents the clocking striking midnight ending her night of magic and both heels being present shows that she never ran from the prince she never met. She sits alone in the darkness to represent her sadness and loss over missed opportunities and omissions. The light coming from above illuminates and encircles her representing her goodness and purity. The circular shape shows her softness without leaving out her grief.

The Real ONe

A Few Words On Kevin Carter

I Just wanna jump a head quick. Ive still got a few more hein sight posts to do but I don’t feel like waiting. So I had CMS class today and although I tried my best to listen I had to do my assignment on a serial killer, don’t worry the details will come. (the only reason I was doing it then and not before is because I had a massive group document assignment that I had to do, and I was supposed to update my blog…) anyways so I was pretty much done when my lecture brought up Kevin Carter and his photo of the girl and the vulture. This immediately stole my attention away from my serial killer (Not an easy thing to do)

Anyways Kevin Carter, he risked his life everyday to show the world the violence apartheid caused. He showed the world what the ANC and Inkhata (IFP) were doing to each other. He witnessed riots, murders, ‘necklacing’s’ all of it so you could read about in the papers. He won the prestigious Pulitzer Prize and that along with the death of his friend, Ken Oosterbroek, consumed him. I think that whether he helped that lil girl or not, his life should be remembered for opening up the worlds eyes and his death for what that can do to a man. Kevin Carter 1960 – 1994


If you wanna know more about Kevin Carter go here: http://all-that-is-interesting.com/kevin-carter

13/05/15 The Psycology of Style.. Oh Yeah I Said It

So (I’m gonna say that a lot) that was my first PD class. Now for my first CMS class (costume, make-up and styling) or what the industry calls ‘Art Direction’. Now that may sound a ‘lil ‘wishey-washy’ but trust me its the full heat. In the real world okay ya fashion style whatever.. In Film though styling a character is all about what you wanna tell the audience about a character, without having to say it or having to reveal it to them. Its the quick conclusions you’re mind draws up without having to work very hard. Like concluding that a kid all dressed in black head phones on, black hoody, dark fringe, those ‘lil finger glove things. Emo kid, not judging, just drawing a conclusion based on style. If PD’s what a room says about you, then CMS is what you’re style says about you, or what you want it to say about you. In terms of character dress everything is deliberate from the ring he wears on a chain around his neck to the way her pinky nail is painted a different colour to the rest of ’em. All of it, it all has a reason. That’s why the leading men always look so cool and the leading ladies always look so appealing.

Art Direction or Art Design is fascinating to me. Just the one line: “Every design has consequences” gets me keen to rattle some cages! but in order to be an effective designer you must be able to communicate your message not just efficiently but persuasively and if you’re good systematically and if you’re really good heuristically.

Oh almost forgot. One last thing I have to do an assignment on a serial killer. so if things get a lil graphic or heavy. Well you’ve been warned 🙂

12/05/15 First Day of Actual Class, Yay…And I’m Late. Awesome.

Ok so I know that was a while ago but I’ve been really busy. So my first PD lecture (production design) and I’m two hours late. Awesome. Now we had my PD lecturer during O – Week (orientation week). Now I can’t really say that much because she’s gonna read this (Hi Miss E) but she made an impression! So I really didn’t wanna be late. I had planned to get there during the break and id just waltz in like the rest of ‘em but oh no. They breaked early so by the time I got there they were back to it. Power point going and everything. I had to interrupt the whole class, it was terrible.

Anyways, ‘The Golden Ratio’, that’s what we learnt about. Well in mathematics Wikipedia tells us that a golden ratio occurs if two quantities’ ratio is the same as the ratio of their sum to the larger of the two quantities. Whatever the hell that means. Just kidding, that actually applies to film and art and design and whole load of other shit. That little sentence. Da Vinci knew what it meant. He used it in ‘The Last Supper’. So what it means is:


That (look up). So if that’s your screen or canvas or whatever. The red bits your focal point. However you can be more intricate:


Like so.  Now heres Da Vinci using it:


The angles capture the eye. That’s in art, in film or in photography you can go even deeper by changing your shape:


Pretty Cool right. There’s still the two rectangles but there is also the spiral to draw your eye to the man and to the tree and so on. Its a manipulation but a beautiful one.

Ya class was cool. Until next time. Stay Frosty