Lloyd Lewis
What we want is not pity. Not even praise. Just recognition: That art made with limits is still art. That art made through disability is still full of force. That the artist doesn’t fade just because the body falters. That age adds weight, not rust.
We’ve shifted everything to Art of FACELESS on Shopify — our own peculiar corner of the internet, independent, eccentric, and entirely ours.
Burnout’s a soft word for something brutal. Sometimes it’s not stress—it’s collapse. Sometimes it’s not just fatigue—it’s psychosis.
The dream? Go full DIY store on the site, print what we like, list nowhere, and walk into bookshops like: “Here’s our stuff. It’s dark. It’s bent. It’s yours. Or not.”
You are invited not just to view, but to linger. Let the recursion pull you in. Let the details breathe.
None of this is Midjourney. Midjourney doesn’t understand grief. Midjourney doesn’t freeze. Doesn’t restart. Doesn’t ache. But I do.