I chose to skew the horizon of this piece to give a bit more feeling to this gold-cuddled cog-dripping gemstone. This gives us viewers a sense of unbalance. Almost as though you were tipping over, consciousness fading, and your own wee creatures were about to have their own localized apocalypse with all your stuff. You can use this nightmare vision anytime you’d otherwise be tempted to take a nap. You’re welcome.
Also employed in my artist’s toolkit of cliché’s and cheap tricks – all the thrummtastic energy effects a caffeine-addled mind can conceive! Some things are hard to convey in a static image. But I wanted to show that this contraption gathered and coalesced ambient aether, and then detonated them in rhythmic pulses. The arcane equivalent of a nuclear-powered dance club. With tiny, tiny dancers.
(Elton John reference omitted because it makes me feel old.)
The Meekstone is a creation for the little people. It is the embodiment of the concept of “when the cat’s away, the mice will play.” It is the revenge of everything that failed the test "you must be this tall to ride this ride."
Upon ignition, the Meekstone pulses powerful roofie-waves that cause anything tall enough to reach the cookie jar crash to the linoleum in a blissful puddle of dreams. Meanwhile, the wee beasties run amok, free of accursed supervision. The result is, well… Can you picture an army of drunk Templeton the Rats?