In Scrizzard, the artist manifests a surreal hybrid of chaos and consciousness — a scribbled lizard whose warped gaze and twisted tongue evoke a creature dragged halfway through dimensions. The ink lines, wild and frenetic, double as both contour and chaos, capturing a moment not of clarity, but of raw existential presence. Two asymmetrical horns jut like antennae to a reality we’re not invited into. With its static spiral eyes and contorted grip, Scrizzard stares both outward and inward — the mind of the artist reflected in compulsive loops.
This is not a lizard. This is a brainwave with claws. A subconscious beast summoned during the in-between — between meetings, between sleep and wake, between meaning and madness.
Scrizzard doesn’t ask to be understood. It dares you to try.