In Blue and White Porcelain, Chenlu Jiang threads the guzheng through the wreckage of contemporary feeling, letting delicate notes rise from beneath the rubble. This isn’t nostalgia—it’s survival dressed in silk, trembling yet unbroken. The piece exposes the quiet violence of beauty in a chaotic world, revealing how tenderness becomes insurgent when everything else cracks. Step into the tension and let the resonance carry you deeper into the MORE CARNAGE landscape.

I used to assume disturbing artists were simply unhinged. Then MORE CARNAGE happened, and that assumption didn’t survive the first conversation. What unfolded during this project wasn’t chaos for shock’s sake, but something far more unexpected—and far more human. MORE CARNAGE became a challenge to every belief I thought I had about “extreme” art, and about the people who make it. This collection didn’t just expand the project; it cracked something open. The full story is… complicated. And worth reading.

In Bird Watching in Gaza, Adam Strange delivers an image that doesn’t document conflict—it detonates inside you. A clenched fist bleeds into bombs, hatchlings scream for survival, and the world around them splinters into dust. This piece sits at the heart of MORE CARNAGE’s ethos: art that refuses politeness, refuses distance, refuses to let tragedy dissolve into abstraction. It is a reckoning disguised as a picture, challenging us to confront what we witness—and what we choose not to.

In Arteryficial Intelligence, Mike Petrakis cracks open the glossy myth of technology and exposes its beating, human core. These works bleed, pulse, and question the fragile boundary between machine precision and emotional chaos. In this MORE CARNAGE feature, we explore how Petrakis transforms AI into something disturbingly alive—an entity shaped by our fears as much as our ambitions. Step inside a world where circuitry becomes flesh, and the future stares back with unsettling intimacy.

In EMPIRE SONG, Tajinder Dhami turns silence into resistance. The work does not explain — it hums, it vibrates, it remembers. Through restraint and transcendental rhythm, Dhami captures the lingering echoes of empire and the emotional residue of history. Within the MORE CARNAGE ethos, this piece becomes an act of quiet defiance — a spiritual song that refuses to end, even after the screen fades to black.

In Rebirth, Jacob Yan transforms collapse into creation. A girl falls into snow — not to rest, but to rupture. Glitch and bloom collide in a digital vision of surrender and renewal, where chaos becomes a sacred act of becoming. Within MORE CARNAGE, this work stands as both confession and rebellion — a moment of raw metamorphosis where perfection dissolves, and something truer takes its place.

On Danny’s Farm, playtime curdles. Eva Sykes turns nostalgia into a fever dream, sculpting grotesque creatures that dance between childhood joy and capitalist decay. It’s the uncanny made playful, the familiar made monstrous—a rebellion against perfection and moral comfort. Within MORE CARNAGE, her work stands as a mirror to our era’s absurdities: bright, broken, and unashamedly alive.

In The End of Work, Claudia Tong turns code into choreography—where AI becomes a co-creator, not a rival. The artwork pulses with both precision and collapse, transforming the end of labour into a meditation on surrender and rebirth. Within MORE CARNAGE, it stands as a digital elegy—where the machine learns tenderness, and the artist learns to let go.

In A Bed Time Story for the End, Zheyan Liyanzhen Huang crafts a world where dreams have vanished and the universe begins to forget itself. Through AI-generated imagery and poetic fragmentation, the film becomes a meditation on decay, memory, and collective consciousness on the brink of collapse. This work embodies the MORE CARNAGE ethos through quiet rupture rather than spectacle, inviting viewers into the soft, sorrowful spaces where reality loosens. Step into the unraveling and witness what remains.

In Discordia Digitalis, Arvie Maniquiz turns malfunction into revelation. Each digital fragment—distorted, symmetrical, unrecognizable—vibrates with chaotic grace. This is not art that seeks control; it thrives in rupture. Within the MORE CARNAGE collection, Maniquiz’s work becomes a manifesto for digital rebellion—a reminder that imperfection is proof of life, and that even in the age of algorithmic restraint, the human instinct to break, distort, and feel still burns bright.

In The Fiend XV, James Mellor turns oil and shadow into revelation. The figure—half specter, half mirror—emerges from chaos, confronting the viewer with the uneasy truth of being human. It is a work of survival, not spectacle; a quiet rebellion against polish and perfection. Within the MORE CARNAGE collection, Mellor’s piece stands as an unflinching testament to endurance—to the beauty found in collapse, and the courage to keep creating through the dark.

In DIRT, Olga Zhdanova strips away the layers of modern identity to reveal something primal, trembling, and true. Her photography is less an act of documentation than of spiritual exorcism—a journey through filth toward clarity. Each image becomes a confession, a ritual of purification that refuses beauty’s comfort. Within MORE CARNAGE, DIRT stands as a manifesto of honesty—an unflinching invitation to touch the wound and call it home.

In Not Honey, Nika Genesis turns the camera into a confessional blade. A diptych split between radiance and recoil, the work traces the instant when softness fractures and a new, sharper self emerges. Through blur, overexposure, and emotional defiance, the piece embodies the MORE CARNAGE ethos—raw, unpolished, and unwilling to sanitize the wound. This feature unpacks the quiet violence and strange tenderness inside Genesis’ image, inviting readers into the volatile heart of the collection.

In The Doberman and the Deer, Mickey Bertram Jeppesen Jensen carves a dialogue between power and grace. These handcrafted forms—part sculpture, part confession—reject the illusion of perfection. They inhabit the emotional terrain of MORE CARNAGE: where chaos meets craftsmanship, where restraint trembles beside instinct. The result is both feral and serene, a meditation on the wild beauty of human imperfection and the art of letting tension stay unresolved.

In The Ballad of G.A.D, Ducky Elford transforms anxiety into a digital storm—vivid, metaphorical, and unashamed of its fractures. The animation plunges viewers into the internal churn of generalised anxiety disorder, revealing a landscape that trembles, mutates, and resists simplification. This featured piece embodies the MORE CARNAGE ethos through emotional exposure rather than spectacle, offering a rare look at rupture from the inside. Step closer and feel the pulse of a mind fighting to stay intact.

In TECHNOEXPRESSIONISM, COOLBYRON transforms the digital canvas into a battlefield of color and control. His neon geometries detonate structure, exposing the chaos beneath our polished technological world. Through his fusion of analog energy and digital process, the artist reclaims emotion from the algorithm. This is not decoration—it’s rupture. Within the MORE CARNAGE ethos, COOLBYRON’s work stands as a defiant hymn to human intensity, resisting the machine’s hunger for order.

In Succession, David Anthony Sant transforms Seoul’s neon arteries into a meditation on pressure, reflection, and the quiet violence of modern cities. The work doesn’t explode—it accumulates, revealing a softer, stranger form of carnage lit by LED glow and mirrored streets. This feature unpacks why Succession stands inside the MORE CARNAGE collection as a luminous, disorienting act of rebellion. Step into the city and see what it reveals when it no longer knows how to rest.

Teresa Wilson’s The Diary is a miniature world where tenderness and dread share the same stitched skin. In this unsettling animated short, two uncanny dolls interact with a quiet intensity that feels both ancient and familiar. This MORE CARNAGE feature explores how Wilson transforms textile sculpture, mummification references, and gentle movement into a haunting study of human connection. Step into a space where silence becomes a confession and the uncanny becomes impossibly intimate.

The Garbage by Jenny Ping Lam Lin breaks open the violence of being labeled “worthless” in a society obsessed with perfection and obedience. Through images of e-waste arranged like disciplined bodies, the series exposes the emotional toll of oppressive educational systems and the fragile, shifting nature of value itself. Lam Lin turns discarded objects into portraits of survival, revealing the haunted beauty within what we are taught to throw away. This is not a story of waste—it’s a story of resistance.

In Where Has the Great Mother’s Chair Gone?, Calayah reimagines the maternal body as both relic and rupture. Through violent digital distortion, her motion-captured figure dissolves into spikes of code and color — a collapse that births new forms of presence. This work anchors MORE CARNAGE in the space between faith and fracture, where the body becomes signal, and loss turns into architecture.

In A Journey Through Watercolour Portraits of the Soul, Cakes6G dissects the human face into fragments of reflection and longing. Through painterly layers and digital geometry, the artist turns beauty into rebellion — a portrait that bleeds, repeats, and refuses stillness. The work captures the raw essence of MORE CARNAGE: where emotion becomes architecture, and identity is shattered to reveal something truer underneath.

In ABOVE SKIN, Jingyun Guan turns something as ordinary as hair into a vessel for rebellion. Each strand becomes a living thread, a boundary blurred between body and spirit. The work captures the raw emotional ethos of MORE CARNAGE: where beauty and discomfort coexist, and the smallest detail of life becomes proof of survival. Guan’s art reminds us that what grows above the skin is never separate from what lives beneath it.

In Maximum Karnage, Nessuno transforms the digital feed into a site of reckoning. Political noise, viral hysteria, and algorithmic wreckage collide in a brutal remix of the real. Rejecting the smoothness of generative art, this work bleeds glitch and compression like truth serum. Within the MORE CARNAGE collection, it stands as a declaration against numbness—a demand to feel again, even if it hurts.

In MASSACRE, Jean-Michel Rolland turns desire into disaster. Through an onslaught of erotic imagery, the digital body disintegrates—part history, part horror, part hymn. The work doesn’t offer solace; it offers confrontation. Within the MORE CARNAGE collection, it stands as both mirror and warning—an act of rebellion against the fetish of beauty, a digital exorcism of control. This is not art to look at. It’s art that looks back, unblinking.

What does unfinished grief look like? In Hanzhi Zhong’s Internal Censor, the answer isn’t spoken—it’s printed. A monoprint frozen mid-process, this work captures the moment where collapse interrupts creation. It’s not polished. It’s not resolved. And that’s exactly why it belongs in MORE CARNAGE.