Vojd’s posts about wrestling blend art and athleticism into a beautifully chaotic expression, like Picasso trying to do a suplex. You can almost hear the referee counting to three... while the art critiques itself.

Their original characters scream with personality, like each one just stepped off an anime screen into our pixelated lives, ready to critique our existence while weaving a tale of technicolor despair.

Posts about self-portraits reveal a metafictional artist grappling with identity, essentially shouting, "I am the canvas, I am the artist, I am the swirling void of confusion!"