call to adventure by [bastien](https://twitter.com/Bastienjpg)

call to adventure by bastien

Bastien

You are a young adult, steering their life through one of the biggest technological renaissances of our time. Internet is young, web3 is even younger, yet both are big enough to take up a huge portion of our lives.

The last few days and weeks of your life have been weirdly ambivalent. The market is lazy, slow and depressing. Numbers are in red, everything is hibernating. You are losing money, your friends are losing money, your enemies are losing money.
Yet the whole community is filled with surreal, amazingly good vibes. Everyone jokes around about how much they've already lost and that it doesn't matter because they still have their nice colourful pictures.

You are growing up and that is a process you cannot change, even if you wanted to. Life happens and if one is not careful they might lose the colourfulness of it.

But that’s not your case. Your desk still looks like a desk of an enthusiastic fourteen or an eighteen year old.
The workspace is messy, full of remnants of your teenage years, full of colourful stickers stuck whenever you stuck them a million years ago, and there is of course – your precious – Gameboy Advance, your best friend for times good and bad.

All of this enhanced by clear signals of you reaching the adulthood, by money and expensive collectibles negligently scattered across the table. A bottle of jack ready right next to your hand.
You have reached the age when you have to take care of yourself. Nobody said that it can’t be fun, though.

You keep your inner child by your side, and you walk the life of joy.

Walk with Me

The main entrance to the mall is a slow, lazy revolving glass-metal door. But it is much more than that. It is a border, a line between two worlds that are as different as chalk and cheese.

Outside, it's the world of the adults. It's lawful, safe; you always know exactly what you can do or say. There are very clear rules on how to behave and how not to behave. In this world, everything has its place. In the eyes of a teenager, it's a world of principles, rules, laws, and order.

But it gets so boring, so slow. And worst of it, so uncool. Everything takes so long, so predictable. “Get up early to get to school don't forget breakfast I will pick you up after the lessons don't forget the training after school dinner with parents go to sleep and tomorrow again, and again.” No change, no deviation, no excitement, nothing.

But the mall is different; it's a jungle. It's an exciting, wild, and dangerous place. Everything has repercussions — wanna say, do, or wear something? Suit yourself, but (in)justice will be done, and promptly. It's a giant chessboard full of pawns ruled by their kings and queens, those very fortunate winners of the constant popularity contest.

Sitting on their thrones and padded chairs they are looking down on us — mere mortals — from their palaces, from the benches with the best view or from their tables at the pizza place, forever reserved. As the main figures of each play and each game, they are unapproachable, and holding the highest stakes of the game they shall continue to be so.

It's a dangerous place, not dissimilar to tyranny. Yet we continue to come here, spend our afternoons here, court our crushes, live through our first loves, create our first life-long enemies that we will befriend again in 2 days. We continue to flatter our royalty, to despise them, to hope to become them.

This is an exciting place, an exhausting place. But most importantly, it is fully ours. This is the City of the Young.

City of the Young

It’s a deep, cold October night. It is long past your curfew yet you are still sitting in your shitty padded office chair in front of your computer.  
You room is mostly dark, the only exception are the shadows of the tree branches behind the window dancing in the moonlight.  
Clicking of your computer mouse and an old dirty keyboard are the only sounds in the otherwise silent peacefulness of the night.

You are once again having a great time doing your digital art. Your face frozen 15 centimetres in front of the big CRT monitor is illuminated by it’s artificial blue light. The fact that you are getting up for school in about 4 hours is a little to no concern to you. You are hypnotized, lost in the sea of pixels and colourful strokes of your mouse. You are creating worlds.

Occasionally one of your old folks comes by the door and stays there for a while, listening whether you are mischiefing again. As they stay there – divided from you only by a thin piece of wood – you try not to move, not to click, not to breathe.  
It never takes more than a few seconds. Making sure that you are sound asleep they move away from the door and turn the light in the hallway off again.

You are safe. And you can continue your journey.  


Space Room, An Artist's Den

It's late afternoon, that kind of right before the dusk, right before the day finally lies down with the stars. Everything you see bathes in surreal light of the late sun rays, rendering the whole world magical and unreal. The coat of evening silence slowly wraps around the neighbourhood calming it down as the sun falls down its' last bits. The peace is being disturbed only by a symphony of late afternoon birds and crickets waking up for their nocturnal soireé.

Your parents are one by one starting to call for all of you to get home, probably to eat dinner or to prepare your things for tomorrow hoping to prevent any unnecessary delays once they are bringing you to school. But you can't hear them.

This time of the day calls for an adventure, and all you can hear is the war cry of your comrades in arms. You are in the middle of a sea battle trying to defend your pirate ship. The cannons roar like mountain lions as they release cannonballs directed at the enemy's ship followed by white smoke and the smell of freshly burnt fire powder. The battle is fierce, and losing is not allowed. This bloody skirmish between you and the other crew draws the line between honour and damnation. And the winner takes all. 

You unleash the beast within you as you deflect attacks with your jagged curved saber in one hand and holding the rope of your ship with the other. Sweat runs down your skin as you jump from one rope to another, fighting all opponents at once.

The battle goes on forever, the enemies are countless and you are fighting for life defending your ship. You live by the black flag, you die by it.

You drop out of the role of an intrepid pirate of the seven seas as your mom appears below your precious treehouse with an angry face. You already know why she is annoyed. She comes under the treehouse only when you don't hear her screaming at you from the house. “Damn it” you think. Just when it was starting to get interesting.

You say goodbye to your friends in the treehouse, walk around the imprecisely built wooden balcony, rest the baseball bat and climb down the ladder to your mom to attend to your real life duties. Bummer.

As you get closer to the entrance of your sweet home, you stop and look over your shoulder. 

The treehouse stands there. Abandoned, yet still inviting to an adventure. Visible, yet partly hidden in the shadows. Lit only by the dark mellow evening light it looks like something entirely different.

Almost like a pirate ship.

Treehouse

For this dynamic NFT I will be regularly updating the metadata and filling up The Garage with nostalgic items from the past.  
All of these items will also be minted as standalone 1/1s and dropped to this artwork's wallet based on an erc6551 standard.

The story:  
"Here we go again, another year, another cycle of your journey around the sun. You are one year older and once again you are standing here, within the forgotten sanctuary, a place immune to the passage of time: the old garage at your parents' house. Its air, despite being filled with dust, breathes stories of the times long gone.

It's a cavern of your past, a relic housing the relics of your childhood. You remember how your father helped you park your first bike here, and the way your mother stored your treasured NFT cards in one of the wooden cabinets, back then when NFTs still used to be physicals. 

This place is a final destination for items that marked and will mark different stages of your life: the skateboard from your teenage rebellion phase, the faded concert posters from bands that no longer exist, the PC setup filled with dreams and fantasies that didn't turn into realities. Each object is a relic, a monument to a chapter of your life that has closed.

You don't visit here often, only when you're back at your parents', reminding yourself of your roots. It's dusty here, the only residents of this garage are your memories embodied in the items of your past. There's an undeniable beauty in the sadness of this place.

Everything here has accomplished its mission. The bike that once bore you to school now sits quietly, its purpose fulfilled. The collection of NFT cards that once sparked interest of your classmates and gave you classroom credit now rests in solemn silence. They all reside here, in patient repose, waiting for eternity, like soldiers who've finished their tour of duty.

You find comfort in the quiet nostalgia of this place. It echoes with the silence of your past, the laughter and tears. You stay in for a moment, with an almost invisible little tear in the corner of your eye, lost in a sea of memories, your heart fluttering. It's strangely soothing, isn't it? Immersing yourself in this Garage of a house with number 6551.

After a while, you leave to get back to your life again, forgetting about this place. In a few months or years, you are going to come back again, surprised about seeing this memento of your past being filled a bit more since the last time you were here, but that's life."

The Garage

Thursday, 10 pm. You had finally convinced your mom to take you to a night swimming once again. This time it took you nearly a month.

All of your school responsibilities had made her think that it was not appropriate to let you stay up and be outside until so late. But there is a school trip tomorrow and all the classes are cancelled, so she finally gave in and you got your way.

When you arrived at the aquapark, changed to your swimming wear and entered the premises, you were left breathless.
The atmosphere of the swimming pool, the water reflecting the moon rays, the sounds of the waves washing up on the pool’s edges, the twisted slide tall as a skyscraper, all combined in a beautiful roomscape, right in front of your eyes.

All of this felt so unreal. Strangely scary, yet so appealing. You took a deep breath, smelling chlorine used for the pool cleaning, and the heart in your chest jumped a little, embracing the magical place in all of it's glory. 
You backed up completely to the wall, took a deep breath, bounced from it and made your today's first run straight to the pool.

These memories are for lifetime.

Liquidity Pool

Welcome to the Arcade world, your after-school rendezvous point of happy childhoods and neon dreams. 
Everyday, as the school bell rings for the end of the day, you go and lose yourself in this ethereal maze of flickering lights and funky sounds, abandoning any and all of your responsibilities for the rest of your day. To soak up the unworldly atmosphere of the inanimate, yet still alive steel machines full of games and fun.

Here you are not alone, this world is filled with kids running around, taking turns on the machines playing their favourite games and goofing around. 
Everyone is here, your schoolmates, your gang, your best friend, the girl you like and even your worst enemy. Everyone is here. This is a neutral zone, you all come here in peace, with your pocket money from your parents or cash from your first jobs, ready to flush them down the machines.

Rightfully, you enjoy this little world after having to sit through a whole school day, this is a blissful experience and you are going to enjoy it. As long as you can.

Arcade World

It's a hot summer day in 2003, you go out and buy a packet of NFT cards. You arrive at home, sit down and with little to no expectations tear the packaging to reveal what's inside. And you cannot believe what you see. With the content of this one particular package you can easily pay for multiple months of your life, no more ramen noodles or frozen pizzas.

You smile - you hit a jackpot today. Looking out from the window you see birds flying across the warm sun. You smile even more, you can finally breathe.

Lucky 03 #3/14

Join me on my artistic web3 journey with nostalgic looking back to the late 90s and early 00s to remind ourselves of all the things we loved and praised during our childhoods and teenage years. I am trying to connect web3 adults and 90s kids within us..

Lucky 03 #6/14

Bastien Genesis

You snatched your package at your front door and urgently disappeared back into your home, running up to your room in the first floor taking stairs by two.  
You cannot wait, what the hell is inside. You heard on the grapevine that this is the first BAS airdrop ever, this thing better be worth it.

You sit down to your desk, painfully oblivious of the mess creeping up on you for the last few days – banana getting a bit too ripe, unresolved Rubik's cube or the fact that you didn't dust the room for like three months, who cares, right?

You take the box and cut the duct tape with a dining knife you took in the kitchen when you were rushing up, and open it. For a while you are confused, there is like a thousand pieces of lining inside, probably to keep the package safe.  
And then you find it, and you drop your jaw, it's the newest Need for Seed game, HOT PURSUIT.  
Damn it you wouldn't expect that, ever. You were scoping the game since it's release a few days ago, but you still haven't had the time to go into a store and buy it – thankfully. 

Now you got it, and you love Need for Seed games, they always perfectly resemble what is going on in your line of work, the rush, the greed, the speed, everybody needs everything and you have to be constantly aware of what is happening around you.  
There is also a letter in the box, a letter of gratitude? 
Nice, you read that letter and you feel.. Nice, nice and pleasantly surprised that somebody acknowledges your collector's approach, the fact that you invest your time and money into somebody just to support them.

Now this is a great gift, great airdrop. You gotta rush to work now, but when you are coming back, you are buying a six-pack of Redbulls and you gonna play the hell out of this game through the night, just like with other Need for Seed games when you were still on highschool.

Today is gonna be a good day.

Hot Pursuit

The air is hot and heavy; you can almost feel the heat from the flames on your skin. The time has come again for Bastien Airdrop Services Inc. to knock on your door, handing you a box of matches and a ticket made of low-grade paper. Why bother with quality when you’re going to burn it anyway, right?

For most people, this is happening for the second time. The first time around, you ended up with a new Tamagotchi or a video game. What’s in store for you now? The Burn Notice doesn’t have a set date, but the event is slowly approaching.

It’s time to get ready because decision time is almost here.

Burn Notice

BAS: Bastien Airdrop Services

Bastien 1/1s

You are sitting in the warmth of your kitchen, eating McDonald's, while your parents are watching TV in the next room. It's a peaceful evening and the room is sinking into the red velvet light of incoming darkness.

You are also a captain, though.. No! You are a Commodore. Your head is full of ominous tones of the war drums and mysterious sounds of the depths of the sea. You can choose whoever you want to be. A soldier? Fine. An explorer? Alrighty. A pirate? Yarr!

And there he is. Across the table. Your opponent. In your life out there, he is your friend, you play together, live day by day by each other's side. 
But not today, not now. Now he is an enemy of your imperial fleet and he has to be destroyed at any cost.

Here, in this game of the deep sea, you can get injured. You can get scammed, rugged, your treasury can be stolen easier than you would think and you could be left alone with nothing. 

But you chose this game willingly, and you are here to win it. So you have to play.

Battle of the Seas

It's 01:13 am, 73 minutes into a new day. You are sitting in your room.  Home alone, parents are out somewhere. There is a storm outside, your room is dark and everything is illuminated only by a dim light of your cool ass modern gadgets.

You ate some fast food (cheeseburger with double portion of cheddar), drank too many cans of coke and now you are just munching some skittles that you found on the bottom of your school backpack.

The sleepy and dark vibe of your room is occasionally dazzled by a sudden and unexpected lightning flash.

You are listening to music, chilling with yourself absolutely unbothered by the chaotic nature of your desk. It's your chaos after all, you know it. And you research hard, you read about NFTs, you read about the market, you doodle the pictures, you are trying to understand Crypto, you read to know as much as you can, you read because it all fascinates you. 

You feel peaceful, the world is asleep, you are alone and all the time in the world is yours.

Midnight Zone

Bastien 1/1

Today is not a good day. 

Having overslept, you woke up a whole hour after the alarm – that you did not set – should have ringed with a terrible realization that the first class of the day is math, and you certainly don't want to come late to the math class.

You jumped out of your bed, gathered all your precious belongings needed to survive your usual day of high school and quickly vanished through the front door of your house. Not eating breakfast, not brushing your teeth, not doing anything of your morning routine.

You rushed to the classroom 5 minutes late – alright, that's not that bad. Your teacher suspiciously scans you from top to bottom, precisely saving the fact that you came late into his head, and proceeds to invite everyone to open up their homework you had from the last lesson.

Damn it. You had been doing the homework yesterday at night. And naturally, amid your morning rush, forgot to put it in your bag. You will probably get a write-up or a bad grade for this, uhh.

And what's worse.. You realize that along with the uncompleted homework you also left your desk unattended with cigarettes and OCB slim papers on it. Please god forbid your mom coming into your room, seeing the mess and the things she shouldn't see. 
God forbid anyone entering your room, your sanctuary, your fortress of solitude.

Today is not a good day. 

Skate

SuperRare

The screen flickers to life, displaying a scene from the past. The colours are muted and the edges are fuzzy, but the picture speaks anyway. The image dances and warps, as if trying to escape the confines of the screen and leap back into the past.

The recording captures moments of pure bliss from one particular kid's birthday party. The joy in the video is palpable, almost tangible, as if you could reach out and touch it.

Watching the video, you can hear the music playing in the background, the sounds of children laughing, and the chatter of the adults. It's a moment frozen in time, a memory captured forever.

As the scene fades to black, you're left with a warm feeling in your heart. You may be older now, but that day lives on in your mind, a precious moment that you'll never forget.

An eternalized joy of one happy little soul.

Memory Lane: We Love You

This is a collection of Bastien editions. If you just simply do not want to go for a 1/1 of mine. ❤️‍🔥

The freezing ice claws of the wind keep leaning onto your body, sharp tiny snowflakes falling down on your face immediately melt upon the touch of your skin. It's cold but you are burning inside.

You are standing on the slope's horizon of the highest peak of the mountain. In deep February you are here alone. It's just you, silver sky, silence and the frost.

You pull up your scarf to cover your whole face and look down the slope marked as difficulty **BLACK**. One small move further and you are falling down the hill's chasm. But you have no fear, you rode this many times today and as many times each day before.

This is the moment, you breathe in, weigh over to your front leg and tilt down. One last second of stillness, before..

...The wind swiftly wraps around your body as you start piercing through the freezing mist of the hill. You forget to breathe, you stop thinking, you ride.  
Each second you ride faster, carving quick, perfect cuts in the snow. You are in a perfect sync with your board, bound to it, leading it downhill in perfect symphony of body moves.

This will take but a few minutes before you reach the bottom of the hill.  
But here, for now, it's an eternity. And it's all yours.

Alpine Reminiscence

Bastien Editions

Remember the mysterious item under the white sheet that you didn't know what it was?

Well, turns out it's the grocery cart you and your dumb friends stole from the local supermarket during one of your teenager-y mischief.

Back then mom told you to return it but you were so ashamed that you just stacked it in the back of the garage. 

Now you hope that she won't find it after all these years because she would most certainly still make you return it.

Stolen Grocery Cart

This is a collection that will contain all of the standalone 1/1s that  will be created for The Garage.
The Garage is my first Dynamic NFT where I decided to utilise the erc-6551 standard (token bound accounts).

The Garage will get its metadata regularly updated to incorporate those items from this collection, giving the holder of The Garage the ultimate synchronization of what they see in their 1/1 as well as owning all of those items as individual NFTs.

One day you have to go to the garage to get some tools. As you rummage through the metal boxes, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

Buried in a pile of boxes next to the stairs. There it is – Old Hockey Set. A gate, two sticks and two helmets. Oh my god.

Winters used to be so much more fun with these set up on the driveway..

A Hidden Hockey Set

Items from The Garage 6551

It's Friday afternoon and we find ourselves in the videoshop, searching for entertainment for tonight — a movie to bring closure to the week. Videoshops always evoke a surreal feeling, detached from our tangible reality. A ghostly presence lingers within these realms, forever anchored in us, firing our imagination. Standing amidst shelves and boxes filled with stories we've known since childhood, we are once again looking for the perfect movie to savor on a Friday night. As always, this movie will be a ghostly remnant of a bygone era when existence sparkled with an elusive brilliance.

During these movie nights, we laugh and cry, indulging in popcorn and sodas throughout the entire night, reminiscing about the good old days when we were just a little kids. However, behind the shimmering facade, concealed within the veiled depths of memory, lie mysterious truths—truths known only to the archetype of the meme. These truths reveal that what has happened will not happen again, and that nostalgia is the dragon we chase down into our memories.

Have we forgotten the arduous struggle against the relentless entanglements of dissolving celluloid, the sorrow of overwritten memories, and the grainy visions? Perhaps we have eluded perfection, as this was merely a decisive step into an enigmatic future that now extends beyond the realms of our wildest dreams.

Now, let's return to reality. The movie has been chosen; all that remains is to complete the rental process and rush back home.

Friday Night on Astral Street

Bastien × DominikG

Deep, deep night. It's dark outside, eerie and dangerous as the local woods are being filled with murderous bandits and brigands digging out of their burrows under the cloak of the night.

The kingdom, your kingdom, is in danger. The bells of your castle are ringing in alarm to alert all citizens of the realm. Danger is near. No one can be trusted.

All kinds of enemies are about to raid and siege your fort, your position is surrounded by all the bloodthirsty beasts from the closest areas. They are coordinating, preparing for battle.

You take no chances. The best defense is a good offense, and so in harmony with a deafening thunder strike you open fire. Cannon balls are cutting through your enemy's ranks, igniting a ruthless skirmish for your Fort and the future of your land.

These are ones of your favourite days. Even at night, it's hot outside and your parents are dining with their friends.. And you are home alone, just like an adult. You are not constrained by the walls of your own bedroom, and you can play your awesome games anywhere in the house.

Today, you have decided to build a fort. What a perfect idea. You are home alone and a little bit scared, which is a sick mood for defending your castle against all types of monsters and creatures. 

In the back of your head, you can hear the war drums, you can hear the war cry of your soldiers running towards a certain death. You are preparing your mental space for battle, imagining different parts of enemies that you are going to blow with your sword and axe. What a great day.

You can hear the incoming storm. It's not raining yet, but the lightnings are getting more steady, creating scary long shadows across the room every once in a while. It's about to begin any moment now. You can already feel it, feel the power of the thunder in your bones. It really is kind of scary. Thank god you can always pick up the landline and call your parents.

“Unless the storm causes a power outage” pops up in the back of your head.

Fort

Start of the summer. School year ended about a week ago and your long time anticipated freedom – along with heat waves and refreshing swimming pools – finally appeared on your doorstep. 

The day you left your school building you felt like a bird, the world belonged to you and you only. But same as with last year, even this summer you forgot that all of your friends are usually gone during the first weeks of the summer – family vacations.

You are bored. You are bored to death. It's only 2 pm and you have already done everything that could be done in this century. You rode your bike, played in your treehouse, watched a movie, bought a soda and drank it, you even cleaned your room for christ's sake, who does that?

Now you are lying upside down on the sofa in your living room, your feet resting on the backrest, head hanging down as you watch the plastic white fan slowly swirling the air in the room.

Jesus, even that thing looks bored. Not as bored as you, though.

What. Am. I. Going. To. Do.

Suddenly, in a split second you got an idea. A perfect idea, an idea exactly for this type of mood. You can't remember the last time you played that game, but that's okay, it's like riding a bike.

Ramped up by a sudden wave of inspiration and energy, you jump to your feet – but stay on the couch – and excitingly announce into the empty room: “Floor is Lava!”

This game has only one rule, you cannot touch the ground, it has become a molten hot lava. You slowly start switching legs, warming up, hopping on the couch. Your belly fills with a warm feeling of joy similar to the colour of the lava on the ground.

You start moving around with long, careful steps to get to a more strategic position. The material of the couch is a bit unstable, but that's alright, it's just as unstable as a rock floating in lava would be.

The point of this game is to move around while staying safe. You could always stay on the main couch, curled up in a ball, untouchable by the lava. But when is the fun and challenge in that? 

You want to get adventurous, explore, fight the heat and danger rising from below. You want to challenge yourself. And to do that, you have to get out there.

You jump from the couch on the armchair, then take some rocks (pillows) and toss them on the lava (ground) to create an opportunity to explore the bottom of the volcano a bit more, all of that with a precise accuracy of an athlete..

Your mom definitely wouldn't like seeing you jump from one pillow to another mopping the floor with them. But how could she blame you? You have to do what needs to be done to stay alive. To explore.

This summer might not be as bad. After all, this game can be played even by one daring adventurer.

Floor is Lava

Through the Lens of a Child

Bastien 1/1s contract based on erc-721TL developed by Transient Labs. 1/1s minted on this contract will be accompanied with "Artwork Documentations" in the form of stories right onchain.
These documentations will serve as extensions to each of the artwork, providing better provenance related to the piece, behind the scenes, tools used etcetera.

Another year went by and here you are again, on your favourite summer camp with all your friends. It's the peak of the summer and every day is as hot as an oven.

This summer is not much different from all the previous ones. You live in the cottage 14 with your best summer buds, and same as every year, you are up to no good.

The rules of the camp rarely change. The days are full of games and educative activities – not that you care about any of those – then some free time, dinner, evening hygiene and the curfew.. 

..And then comes your most favourite part of the day, the time after the curfew. Whilst all of you are expected to be slowly carried away into the realm of dreams, the exact opposite is happening. Your instincts of the beast are waking up, your eyes are getting used to the midnight blue of the cottage. You hear every rustle from outside of the room. You become nocturnal. This is your moment.

The plan for each night is different. Sometimes it is horror stories or deep philosophical debates about our Universe (Are we really alone? What does infinity even mean?). On other nights it is sneaking out to experience an adventure. No better thrill than trying to avoid a supervisor on his night patrol. Over the years you have become masters of tiptoeing behind their back trying to visit the girls' cottage in the middle of the night.

This here is not your life. It is the time and place where the standard rules don't apply, there are no parents and life just feels different.

These are the good summers of your life. Summers when you find your first loves, get your first kisses, find best friends 4ever and create a lifetime of memories.

After the Curfew

Bastien Stories

Bright as a beach cocktail, he comes and goes in a blink of an eye, just like the phenomena it has been inspired by – the bull run.

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Bastien's Artwork Disclaimer:

The artworks created by Bastien, displayed on this platform or in any other form, are entirely original artistic expressions and are not associated with or endorsed by the original creators or manufacturers of any depicted devices, products, or intellectual properties. Any resemblance to real devices or products should be viewed as a creative interpretation.

These artworks are intended for entertainment, artistic, and creative purposes. They do not imply any affiliation with, sponsorship, or endorsement by the original creators, manufacturers, or trademark owners. Any trademarks, logos, or recognizable features depicted in these artworks belong to their respective owners and are used here for artistic and transformative purposes.

Bastien respects the intellectual property rights of others and encourages viewers to support and appreciate the original creators and their work. In other words, go and buy a Nintendo Gameboy anon, relive those sweet moments!

If you have any concerns regarding the use of specific intellectual property or trademarks in these artworks, please feel free to contact me to address them.

Sunset Driveby

This is a collection for series of my GM, Boy 1/1s. Each of those pieces is a part of a bigger collection aiming to help each of the collectors and viewers of the art to think about the old times as children.
To go back in memories and think of all the games and afternoons spent having fun.

I hope that after viewing those, you will go and buy a Nintendo Gameboy. Go and relive your old days.

When you are stuck in the middle of nowhere and boredom comes knocking on your door, there is nothing left to do but to browse more art and mint mint mint.

Lollipop Compensation

GM, Boy

In the realm of your memories there is a place. A dusty old garage serving as a mancave for your grandpa or your dad. This is his workshop, his chamber of solitude, his forge of creation.

More than often you used to pass by this place as a kid while attending to your yard adventures. You used to peek inside every now and then only to see your grandpa's big back and shoulders leaning over his desk, working on something that you could never ever, ever (!) build or create yourself. Occasionally he would reach for his beer on the side of the desk, take one or two big gulps, burp and get back to his work.

Often he would work on a new wooden toy for you. A sword, crossbow or even a little skatepark for your tech decks. You just had to ask for it.

The vibrant smell of the freshly cut sawdust fills this place, always full of many different bangs, knocks and bams. The colour of this memory is orange, as radiant and lively as the firey sparks flying off the circular saw that he used to cut the biggest planks with.

All the sensations of this place always fused together into a beautiful tapestry of timber, engraving into your mind as an image of a place that men go to work to. This place resides deep in your memories, and while the workshop is still on your grandpa's yard, there is only a small resemblance between that and the image in your head.

Tapestry of Timber

Maybe a 3 year old shouldn't be in a casino bar staff room
Maybe a 5 year old shouldn't be seeing boobs calendars pinned on the walls
Maybe an 8 year old shouldn't be helping counting cash from the roulette

Maybe some things should remain unseen.

Home Untitled

Bastien Workshops

This is a place of the Friday mischief and the risky thrill, 

a place you come to gamble, 
play some pool and mainly, 
chill.

Tale of a Degen

The Dive Bar Chronicles

I never meant to lose you

And when it all ends it will be just you, standing on the piles of all the toys you ever had, wondering if it was worth it. If the weight of your memories can ever outscale the burden of the thrash.

Isle of Flies

Art of me

Do we ever stop to wonder what’s going on in the lives of the kids we pass in the high school hallways?

Negative Space

It was as if I were tuned to a different frequency, fated to be misunderstood, always the odd one out.

Always afraid I’d never find my tribe.

Different Frequency

Losers’ Club

And whatever happened after and as old as we became, we always carried the memory of those sunny days with us, an eternal reminder that once, we truly were the children of the Sun.

Bastien

Bastien

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