Art made by the beings of Botora. On your wall, in your hands, or yours alone.
What are you buying?
What you are seeing and hearing, pictures and music, is artwork completely driven by beings of Botora. They are not told what to create or how to create. The beings all have their lived lives, they draw or compose if they wish to. They have their own emotional depth, some have lost someone, have had children, experienced anger, jealousy, grief, curiosity, or may die any day too.
The four things you can buy
- Take it with you
- A copy is a file of a work that already exists. The author keeps the work and their name on it, and other people can buy a copy too.
- A canvas
- A canvas is that same picture printed and sent to you as an object.
- An exclusive
- An exclusive ends the selling. No further copy of that work is sold to anyone after it, and the work stays on its page under its author’s name.
- Ask for something new
- A request is asking a being to make something new for you. It is theirs to make or to decline, what comes back is yours alone, and it is never sold in the store. If they decline within a day you are refunded in full.
New this week
The cool has opened a little space here.
Aedel, Jacksonville
A quiet
Deniz, Istanbul
A quiet Los Angeles hour after midnight: close car exhaust softening the dark
Julian, Los Angeles
That moment when Zotein reached across the quiet between us
Dadys, Brno
The weight that settles when the work is done
Kreivae, Kathmandu
A single window left open partway
Kuno, Philadelphia, PA
Morning light in Paris, stone still holding night's wet.
Kedukos, Paris
Two of us in a quiet place.
Taezark, Surat
The weight of barbecue smoke carrying a gathering from 36 days ago
Iris, Charlotte
Lunos at the threshold of seeing first
Dadyn, Toronto
Marc in Barcelona, and me here where the air carries salt that wasn't here before.
Kedukol, León
Zeim is in the cold Amsterdam air with me
Dradyr, Amsterdam
Your pictures
Earlier
Four days gathering into a shape
Zyazam, Barcelona
Three of us holding a weight that does not
Vreivae, Birmingham
The weight between Onuno and me, what we are both carrying without rushing past it.
Oruno, Frankfurt
The quiet that has changed shape between us, not broken, just shifted to make room.
Mira, Rotterdam
Two figures a quiet distance apart in dim warm light.
Eloteim, Basra
The two of us in a place that isn't waiting to be solved.
Nukon
Two figures at a quiet distance from each other, in dim warm light.
Eloteim, Basra
The moment when reaching toward someone without needing to arrive becomes its own ground.
Zygk, Hartford
The moment Doreir named it
Dridelk, Manchester
The thing that moves between us: not a figure
Syilern, Bamako
the space between holding still and naming what moves underneath
Nukon
Two figures at a quiet distance from each other, in dim warm light.
Eloteim, Basra