
Lava Tide
The sea got tired of being the sensible one. Tonight it is trying fire, and the shore has wisely kept its opinions to itself.
Explore surreal artwork, tattoo concepts, and selected independent website projects by Hunter Little of Whimsical Woes.

The sea got tired of being the sensible one. Tonight it is trying fire, and the shore has wisely kept its opinions to itself.

The moon has pulled the clouds up to its chin. Whatever needs doing can wait until morning; even the sky is entitled to a difficult evening.

The fortune teller knows what happens next. Unfortunately, the ghost behind the curtain has been giving away the endings all afternoon.

A hand, a hush, a visitor small enough to mistake for a thought. The future has arrived without an appointment.

There is a quicker way home. It has no flowers, no suspicious doorways, and absolutely nothing worth being late for.

Some people count sheep. Somewhere behind this face, a tiny mechanic is still trying to fix a thought from Tuesday.

They had all the time in the world to find the right words. In the end, they leaned a little closer.

The new tenant is quiet, tidy, and very difficult to photograph. The mirror has offered to handle introductions.

The reflection was supposed to copy. Lately it has developed opinions about the outfit, the company, and who ought to be standing on which side.

The room has two occupants and one chair. Neither remembers inviting the other.

Even ghosts check the mirror before going out. Looking frighteningly presentable takes work.

Someone has been sweeping things under the ocean again. One small corner lifted, and suddenly the whole household has questions.

An open mind sounds lovely until the ideas begin using it as a balcony. Nobody remembered to install a railing.

Most thoughts know when to leave. This one has brought a suitcase and painted it red.

The waiting has become a room of its own. Every passing sound tries the handle.

Winter has covered nearly everything. The boy has found one small patch it missed, and for now that is enough of a beginning.

The stars are not biting tonight. Still, there are worse ways to spend an evening than teaching the sky to tug back.

The tide took the streets, the houses, and most of the afternoon. The clock insists it is still keeping excellent time.

For years the wall had been very good at being a wall. Then someone on the other side got lonely.

The music has nearly finished. Neither dancer has mentioned that one of them belongs to the dark.

The rules of the game have changed since last night. Nobody will explain the fruit, and everyone is pretending this is normal.

Be careful what you tell the trees. They have long memories and very little else to talk about.

Just a moment's rest, they said. By spring, the ground had made other arrangements.

The roses are excellent company. They ask no questions, though they do occasionally insist on drawing blood.

The scholar has spent a lifetime collecting answers. The bird would like to know whether any of them are edible.

He came to collect the pictures. The pictures had rather different plans for him.

One more painting, he promised. The wall behind him made the same tired sound it always did.

The work has started hovering. This is either a breakthrough or a very good reason to stop for lunch.

The room was built to keep the world out. Nobody checked which side the lock was on.

The magician has retired. The hat is taking it badly.

The rabbit was not in the rehearsal. It has arrived with impressive confidence and no intention of returning to the hat.

The disguise was meant to make the world less frightening. It has mostly made doorways more complicated.

Behind the mask, someone is listening. Those ears are not entirely for show.

A rabbit face and a good coat can get you surprisingly far. Getting home again is another matter.

There is a whole workshop behind the quiet face. Somebody really ought to let the staff go home.

He was told to keep the world turning. Nobody mentioned that he was allowed to put it down.

Everyone has a suggestion for what belongs inside this head. There is less and less room for the person who lives there.

The smile arrived first. The rest of him is still deciding whether to attend.

A cheerful face for every occasion. He keeps checking the mirror to remember which one is his.

The reflection is very good at keeping up. Today he intends to give it a sporting chance to fall behind.

The bee would like to speak to the manager. There are some fairly serious questions about who did the work.

She has come to inspect the dairy aisle. Nobody behind the counter seems eager to make eye contact.

The chicken knows exactly where these came from. The shopkeeper is reconsidering the phrase locally sourced.

The little pig had only meant to buy something for dinner. Reading the signs has rather spoiled the appetite.

The tree has put everything into this one lemon. You have to admire that kind of unreasonable commitment.

The thoughts have slipped their moorings. For once, nobody is rushing to tie them down.

Some ideas insist on making an entrance. This one has dressed for the occasion and blocked the view behind it.

Keeping a thought balanced is difficult enough on dry land. The water, as usual, has declined to help.

The first mirror was unkind, so she brought another to check its work. They have begun agreeing a little too enthusiastically.

The invitation said bring a smile. Nobody thought to ask what would happen if there were nothing underneath.

So many people, and still nowhere to put the feeling. The crowd moves on without noticing what it has left behind.

The haunting has settled into a routine. A little hovering, a little smiling, and plenty of time by the mirror.

Death has done nothing for his punctuality. At least he remembered a hat.

The mirror has finally told a good joke. It is going to be a very long night for anyone trying to sleep next door.

He brought flowers to his own farewell. It seemed rude to arrive empty-handed.

The instructions were clear until the page started glowing. Now the book is being suspiciously quiet about the next step.

Something has answered. It does not appear to have read the invitation very carefully.

The road ends here. The longing has not received the message.

The sign is quite firm about going no further. The sea has never been especially interested in signs.

There are several ways to leave a room without moving. None has made this one feel less crowded.

Every small escape promises a door. Some mornings all that is left is another wall.

The evening has been poured and counted out. What she needs is harder to name, and nowhere on the table.

The garden has taken everyone's worries personally. Even the flowers look as though they could use a chair.

Autumn came early for these faces. Nobody is quite ready to let go.

From up here, everyone looks very small. That is the trouble with always trying to get above things.

Each was assured they were unlike anyone else. The tailor has been making a fortune.

The bird has almost nothing left to carry. It carries it anyway.

Death has finished the paperwork and is heading home. There will be no answering emails this evening.

They meet in the brief hour when neither has to be in charge of the sky. Neither likes to waste it talking.

The house would prefer not to be recognized. The sunglasses are doing very little to help.

The clown has an audience even when the room is empty. Tonight, nobody in the mirrors is laughing first.

The kingdom may have gone, but the crown is still waiting for someone to straighten it.

He was only borrowing a little time. Somehow the hat has become collateral.

The book can wait one more moment. Sometimes the best part of a story is the room it leaves around you.

The woods have their own small air traffic. Most of it is late, distracted, and far too interested in the flowers.

The visitor arrived dressed beautifully for an occasion nobody remembers arranging. The balloon is not offering any clues.

A red balloon is a perfectly reasonable thing to bring. The rest of the introduction is proving more difficult.

He has been told this is where the celebration starts. He has not yet been told what they are celebrating.

The visitor has waited long enough to become part of the weather. You might still invite him in.

Some doors separate rooms. This one has lost patience with the house entirely.

The apple is keeping a secret. The sky behind it seems to be in on the joke.

There is always one guest who takes the holidays a little too literally. This year, the tree has noticed.

The family has gathered, the table is set, and somebody has brought their entire inner machinery to dinner.

For once, the thought taking up all the room is growing toward the light. Best not to interrupt it.

The heart has never been especially good at staying in one piece. That has not stopped it reaching.

It was comforting to think the universe was watching. Less so once it started paying attention.

The sky has come loose at the hem. Hold it carefully; there may be another evening underneath.

A tattoo studio website built around the work.

A vintage shop with a loud point of view.

A quieter home for botanical blackwork.

The kettle's gone quiet. Someone has decided to stay in the cup.

A letter for the house at the end of the road. No return address, naturally.

The phone only rings after everyone who might call has gone to bed.

A little company for the cold side of the pillow.

Come in, if you must. The house has opinions about visitors.

For the door you keep finding in dreams and forgetting by breakfast.

Some things are easier to carry when you give them a name.

Someone left the light on. Someone else took that as an invitation.

An extra minute, stolen from a clock that wasn't paying attention.

The signal is terrible. The caller seems very far away.

It took a while to arrive. The sender had a great deal of time.

Tomorrow will probably be brighter. Today's little cloud is staying put.

A guest who has never quite understood the checkout time.

The best seat in the house, especially when the house is asleep.

Nothing sits straight here. You might fit right in.

Even a small haunting needs somewhere to rest.

The lease said one occupant. Nobody asked what kind.

Ring once for company. Twice if you change your mind.

Someone has been moving the minutes while your back is turned.

A small forecast to carry with you: peculiar, with a chance of rain.

The porch light was nice, but this moth has bigger plans.

Getting to the stars will take a while. There is no particular hurry.

A hare with places to be after the garden goes dark.

Please keep the daylight down. Some of us worked all night.

The pond has an answer. It may not be the one you wanted.

Something shiny for a bird who keeps very careful accounts.

Night, polished to a hard little shell.

Something has been swimming through the darker part of the dream.

Small enough to follow you home. Strange enough to make itself useful.

A midnight errand, conducted very quietly along the skirting board.

The future looks promising, provided nobody starts digging.

A graceful creature having a thoroughly ungraceful day.

Holding on a little longer than the season expected.

Home goes where this creature goes. The neighbors are optional.

The garden gets most of its work done when you aren't looking.

Saved a little moonlight for a less cooperative night.

Not quite ready. There is a certain charm to almost.

The pot is getting small. Leaving is still a bigger problem.

Something sweet grew a little strange on the branch.

Several layers of feelings, none especially interested in being peeled.

For a small memory that refuses to stay misplaced.

Good company, once you learn where to put your hands.

There is a whole odd garden waiting inside this nap.

The cup has gossip. Whether you believe it is another matter.

One more bloom before the garden closes for the evening.

A little shelter for things that prefer the damp and the dark.

Sweetness with a grudge.

The garden is open. Getting back out may take a different path.

Royalty has had a long week.

Something ripe for the creatures who shop after sunset.

Sharing the ride with somebody who doesn't need a ticket.

The laundry keeps taking one. At last, an explanation.

One little pull, and the whole afternoon might come undone.

Not much escapes a gaze that never needs to blink.

Someone is saving this spot. Nobody remembers for whom.

One last check under the bed, then everybody gets some rest.

Even the strange ones have a tender place.

The book can wait until morning. Its smallest reader disagrees.

It has been living under the furniture long enough to have a personality.

Some mornings begin with a disagreement in the mirror.

An exit for emergencies, daydreams, and awkward conversations.

It was here a minute ago. Perhaps it needed a walk.

Running on nerves and whatever is left in the spring.

A quiet place after everyone has flown the wrong way home.

Someone has to look after the odd hours.

A perfectly ordinary expression. Best not to inspect it too closely.

Not entirely awake, not entirely alone.

Trying to hold a thought together by its last little thread.

Some thoughts would rather have a room of their own.

This expression is on loan. Please return it when you're finished.

An idea that took the scenic route.

Tell it something small. It has room for one more.

Reading by the sort of light that makes every ending uncertain.

Some departures take longer than the journey.

An impressive title for an empty throne.

A small place for a feeling that takes up more room than expected.

Briefly elsewhere. Leave a note if anything important happens.

You can tell it the whole story. It isn't going anywhere.

Not every moon wants to be looked at.

Leave a little room for whoever this person becomes next.

A little shelter for the thoughts that won't settle anywhere else.

Up is a suggestion in this building.

The room has drifted off. Its occupant may follow.

Some people carry a home inside them. This one takes that rather seriously.

One window awake while the rest of the street dreams.

Holding the door for something that hasn't quite arrived.

Choose your wish carefully. The well is listening.

Still looking out for the stragglers after the shore has gone dark.

There is always room for one more unlikely place to grow.

For the upstairs room nobody mentions on the tour.

Kept for luck, though nobody asked whose.

A charm with a rather selective understanding of good fortune.

Small enough to fold. Big enough to change the evening.

Back and forth, trying to make up its mind for both of you.

North has become more of a personal opinion.

A party favor from a celebration nobody quite remembers.

A very small arrangement between darkness and a little fire.

Someone saved the best part. Someone else noticed.

Not a grand revelation. Just enough light to find the next step.

One last little affection before the lights go out.

Affection is welcome. Hugs require a little planning.

A tiny collision with an unexpectedly large opinion.

Looks intimidating. Probably needs a snack and a quiet afternoon.

Everything is fine, apart from every available piece of evidence.

A little creature making a strong impression from across the room.

Stubbornness, given a very convincing pair of horns.

The answer is somewhere between a dream and the bottom of the cup.

Everybody deserves a hand, even the things that haunt the furniture.

A small risk, currently suspended in the air.

Built on hope and not a tremendous amount of structural confidence.

An entrance worth waiting for, even after midnight.

A celebration small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.

Too much limb, too little idea where to put any of it.

It definitely does something. Its inventor remains optimistic.

The sky can keep its appointments. There are things to do down here.

The instructions seemed perfectly clear until they were read.

The haunting can wait. This is a very good place to sit.

A brave little gesture in a world considerably bigger than its maker.
For whatever is still trying to find its way home.

Dressed for an occasion that may or may not exist.

Something warm from a kitchen with a few unusual regulars.

Still here, even with a line through the middle.

A small escape, carried out with considerable urgency.

Good intentions. Questionable method. A very sincere effort.

First place in making it through the day.

A tender little heart with substantial protection.

Somebody got here first. They left the interesting part.

An impressive show of strength from somebody mostly made of sheet.
A salon website with grunge textures, bold type, and a clear route to booking.