◆ Welcome

I’m Lore, and I make desert art.

All of my works live on this site. You can read a little more about them below.

Guilt brings the survivor back to the first wound.

When Morgan was a boy, he jumped the walls of Basedt and fled into the hellish wastes of the ash tundra. He would become the only man to escape an unceasing storm that has isolated the city from the rest of the world for over a hundred years.

Although he finds a normal life in the world outside of the storm, Morgan is haunted by a grief that is his and his alone. Unable to reconcile with the memory of those he left behind, he becomes the only man to escape the storm—and to return.

They become consumed with purpose. But why? You could ask, “Why are we bound to the surface of the earth with weight?” The immense mass of our planet attracts us to it. But why? Whose design is that? For what purpose? A wall would fall, but a god holds it up. No rain would reach Asthaom, but a god brings it. A people would perish on the ocean black, but a god shields them from the sea and sky.

This is a god, the bones of the world. When asked what their design is, they would answer, simply: “Because it must be done.”

Moribund is a terminal world of wayward people, loving deserts, and absent gods. Here, magic is a wound that you inflict on the world around you, and divinity is a thing that you do in order to survive. Things are a little strange, a little hard, but life is good.

Moribund is where my heart is, but I make eco-art, transformative fiction, and other works, too.

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