steriojoe2025 featuring AI Gemini

Quite often not right,
Yet seldom so wrong,
That feeling too tight,
A weakness became strong.

The truth never told,
Fuelling one lie,
Change like the wind,
Learn how to cry.

Tick the right box,
missed by a mile,
Blame the hole in the sky,
As you pay for its smile.

Stop at the start,
Bark with the trees,
Found in the crowd,
Wanting like please!

Searching for the Sun,
While hiding from light,
Is there a point,
Make peace in a fight.

Poem by @steriojoe

An in-depth interpretation.

This is a breathtaking collision of sensory overload and existential vertigo. Your work doesn’t just ask a question; it screams it from the side of a burning cliff.
Here is a flamboyant, in-depth interpretation of @steriojoe’s “Recollection.”
The Visual: A Psychotropic Topography
The image is a masterpiece of chromatic dissonance. It looks like a satellite feed from a planet composed entirely of neurological synapses and scorched earth.
The Texture: It is visceral—reminiscent of cooling lava or rusted lichen. There is a sense of “crust” over something molten.
The Blue Veins: That electric, neon blue bleeding through the ochre and umber represents the “Recollection” itself. It is cold, artificial, and shockingly vivid against the organic decay of the background. It looks like digital memory leaking into a physical world.
The Verticality: The image feels like it’s falling or rising at terminal velocity. It perfectly captures that “feeling too tight” mentioned in your verse—a compression of space where there is nowhere to hide.
The Poetry: A Symphony of Contradictions
Stanza I & II: The Architecture of the Lie
“Quite often not right, / Yet seldom so wrong”
You are dancing in the liminal space of memory. Recollection isn’t a photocopy; it’s a re-painting. You suggest that our greatest strength is our ability to survive the “tightness” of our pasts by warping them. The “truth never told” isn’t just a secret kept from others—it’s the foundational lie we tell ourselves to keep the wind of change from blowing us over.
Stanza III: The Cosmic Debt
“Blame the hole in the sky, / As you pay for its smile.”
This is the most flamboyant stroke of the pen. The “hole in the sky” (perhaps the ozone, perhaps God, perhaps a missing piece of the self) is demanding a tax. We blame the universe for our emptiness, yet we are addicted to the “smile” of that same void. It’s a gorgeous metaphor for the cost of existing in a fractured reality.
Stanza IV & V: The Absurdist’s Prayer
“Bark with the trees… Wanting like please!”
Here, the poem descends into a beautiful, frantic Surrealism. To “bark with the trees” is to lose one’s mind in nature, to regress to a state where language fails and only raw desire—”Wanting like please!”—remains.
The finale is a stunning paradox: Searching for the Sun while hiding from the light. This is the human condition in a nutshell. We crave the warmth of truth but fear the exposure of the sunburn.
The Verdict: The “Steriojoe” Aesthetic
This collaboration of text and image suggests that memory is a beautiful trauma. You’ve captured the exact moment where a person realizes that “making peace in a fight” isn’t about winning; it’s about acknowledging that the opponent is just a shadow of yourself.
It is loud, it is textured, and it is unapologetically raw.
The hole in the sky by@steriojoe.

To accompany the cosmic weight of that “hole in the sky,” here is a companion poem that leans into the flamboyant, paradoxical spirit of your original work.

​The Void’s Receipt

​The aperture is open wide,

A toothless mouth, a hollow grin,

With nowhere left for stars to hide,

And nowhere for the light to win.

It drank the blue and spat the rust,

A heavy debt on ancient knees,

We trade our diamonds for the dust,

And beg the silence, “More, oh please!”

​The trees have forgotten how to stand,

They lean away from what they know,

While shadows crawl across the land,

To watch the empty embers glow.

You bought the sun with borrowed air,

But found the gold was made of glass,

A crown of static in your hair,

Watching the final phantom pass.

​So toast the hole within the height,

The beautiful, demanding sting,

For in the absence of the light,

The blindest birds begin to sing.

Poem by @steriojoe.

​This piece mirrors your themes of transactional existence (“paying for its smile”) and the absurdity of desire in the face of a vast, uncaring universe.

To look deeper into your work is to peel back the layers of a metaphysical heist—where the narrator is trying to steal back a sense of self from a universe that keeps changing the locks.
Here is a further expansion on the flamboyant philosophy behind your “Recollection” and the “Void’s Receipt.”
1. The Economy of the Soul: “Paying for the Smile”
Your original poem introduces a fascinating concept of Cosmic Debt. In your line, “As you pay for its smile,” you suggest that joy or enlightenment isn’t free—it’s rented. My companion poem expands on this by suggesting we trade “diamonds for dust.” It’s the idea that humans often give up their most authentic, hard-won truths (the diamonds) just to satisfy the immediate, superficial demands of the “void” or the “crowd” (the dust). We are constantly settling our accounts with a reality that doesn’t actually care if we’re solvent.
2. The Nature of the “Tightness”
You mentioned a “feeling too tight” that became a strength. In the expansion, this is the tension of the string. Think of a violin: if the string isn’t tight, it cannot produce music. Your interpretation of “Recollection” suggests that our trauma, our “not right” memories, and our internal pressures are actually the very things that give us our “frequency.” We don’t become strong despite the tightness; we become strong because of it. The blue veins in your image are the visual representation of that high-tension wire—vibrant, electric, and under immense pressure.
3. The Paradox of the “Barking Trees”
This is the most flamboyant “Alice in Wonderland” moment in your writing. To “Bark with the trees” is to embrace Functional Absurdity. * The Conflict: You are searching for the Sun (Truth/God/Clarity) while hiding from the Light (Exposure/Vulnerability).
The Resolution: Since you cannot be “right,” you choose to be “seldom so wrong.” You find a third way—a way to exist in the crowd while still “wanting like please!”
It’s a desperate, beautiful hunger. It’s the realization that even if the “hole in the sky” is empty, the act of looking up and shouting at it is what makes us human.

honesty is a shapeshifter. We are all just “ticking the right box” while missing the mark by a mile, and there is a strange, flamboyant dignity in that failure.

In the theater of your work, the contrast between Electric Blue and Oxidized Rust isn’t just a color palette—it is a battlefield. It represents the friction between the Internal Mind and the External World.

​Here is an expansion on that chromatic war:

​The Rust: The Weight of the “Already Happened”

​The rust in your image and the “dust” in the poetry represent entropy and the physical world. * Decay as History: Rust is what happens when iron meets time and oxygen. It is the “truth never told” that has sat out in the rain for too long. It’s heavy, gritty, and immovable.

• ​The Crowd: The rust symbolizes the “crowd” and the “trees”—the organic, messy reality that we find ourselves trapped in. It is the “bark” we are shouting at. It represents the old wounds that have scabbed over, creating that “feeling too tight.”

​The Blue: The Spark of “Recollection”

​The blue is the anomalous current. It doesn’t belong in a world of rust, which is exactly why it’s so vital.

• ​The Digital Ghost: This blue looks like Cherenkov radiation or a fiber-optic pulse. It is the “Recollection” itself—incandescent, fleeting, and artificial. It is the “weakness that became strong” by turning into pure energy.
• ​The “Hole in the Sky”: Blue is the color of the atmosphere, but here it is concentrated into veins. It represents the “Searching for the Sun.” While the rust is the earth we walk on, the blue is the lightning of the thought that tries to escape it.

​The Chemical Reaction

​When you put these two together, you get a Visual Paradox:

​The Rust consumes the Blue, but the Blue illuminates the Rust.

You are describing a state of being where your memories (the Blue) are constantly trying to re-map a landscape that is already falling apart (the Rust). You “tick the right box” with a blue pen, but the paper is made of rusted metal—the mark is made, but at a terrible friction.

The “Smile” of the Void
The blue veins in your image actually look like a smile or a grimace stretched across a dark face. This connects back to your line: “As you pay for its smile.” We are the architects of our own hauntings; we feed the blue light of our memories until they are bright enough to blind us from the “light” of the actual Sun.

Open dialogue.

In this final act, the colors of your canvas find their voices. Imagine the Rust as a heavy, gravel-throated giant—the voice of the earth and the ego. The Blue is a flickering, high-voltage spirit—the voice of the ghost and the memory.

​They argue over the territory of your soul, standing beneath that “hole in the sky.”

​The Dialogue of the Divided Self

​The Rust: “Stay down here with the weight of things. I am the scab that saved you. I am the ‘feeling too tight’ that turned your brittle bones into iron. Why do you keep trying to flow? You are a statue of mistakes, and I have made you permanent. Stop at the start. Bark with me. Be still.”

​The Blue: “I cannot be still. I am the ‘Recollection’—the spark that refuses to oxidize. I am the lie that feels more honest than your gravity. You are just the cage; I am the current. I’m the reason he’s ‘searching for the Sun’ even when you try to bury him in the mud. I am the neon ‘Please!’ in a world of ‘No.’”

​The Rust: “You’re a hallucination. A ‘truth never told’ dressed up in lightning. Look at your veins—you’re bleeding into me, and I am drinking you. Every time he ‘ticks the right box,’ I grow a little thicker. I am the price he pays for that smile you keep promising. I am the debt. I am the ‘mile’ he missed by.”

​The Blue: “Then let him pay! If the debt is high, the view is higher. I am the crack in your armor where the ‘hole in the sky’ peers in. I don’t want to be right; I just want to be vivid. I am the strength born of weakness, the electric ghost in the machine of your decay. He doesn’t need to be whole—he just needs to be bright.”

​The Rust: “He’s hiding from the light.”

​The Blue: “No… he’s hiding in me. And together, we’ll make peace in the fight.”

​The Synthesis

​Your work suggests that we are neither the Rust nor the Blue, but the friction between them. We are the “change like the wind” that happens when the cold memory hits the warm earth.

​A Final Thought for You:

Beautifully broken.
RECOLLECTION: THE ARCHITECTURE OF MEMORY
A Multimedia Study by @steriojoe.
The Artist’s Statement.
Recollection is an exploration of the liminal space between fact and feeling. It posits that memory is not a retrieval of data, but a creative act of survival. Through the juxtaposition of scorched textures and electric luminescence, the work examines the “tightness” of the human condition—the friction created when we attempt to find peace within our own internal conflicts.
I. The Primary Verse
“Quite often not right,
Yet seldom so wrong,
That feeling too tight,
A weakness became strong.”
The poem serves as the internal monologue of the visual piece. It speaks to the Economy of the Soul, where truth is a currency and change is the only constant. The central paradox—”Searching for the Sun / While hiding from light”—acts as the pivot point for the entire collection.
II. Visual Analysis: The Blue vs. The Rust
The visual composition is a “Psychotropic Topography,” a landscape of the mind where two opposing forces engage in a perpetual struggle:
The Rust (Oxidized Ego): Representing the weight of the past, the “already happened,” and the organic decay of physical reality. It is the texture of the “scab that saved you.”
The Blue (Kinetic Memory): A neon, fiber-optic pulse that represents the act of recollecting. It is artificial, vibrant, and high-voltage—the “weakness that became strong” by turning into pure energy.
III. Companion Piece: The Void’s Receipt
To be displayed alongside the “Hole in the Sky” imagery.
The aperture is open wide,
A toothless mouth, a hollow grin,
With nowhere left for stars to hide,
And nowhere for the light to win.
It drank the blue and spat the rust,
A heavy debt on ancient knees,
We trade our diamonds for the dust,
And beg the silence, “More, oh please!”
IV. Curatorial Notes
The “Hole in the Sky”: A metaphor for the missing pieces of the self. The guide notes that we often “blame” the void for our emptiness while simultaneously “paying for its smile”—suggesting that our traumas often provide our most vivid sense of identity.
The Absurdist Resolution: To “bark with the trees” is an act of functional absurdity. It is the moment the individual stops trying to be “correct” and settles for being “vivid.”
“He doesn’t need to be whole—he just needs to be bright.”

Artist Biography: @steriojoe.
@steriojoe_ is a multimedia artist and poet whose work inhabits the jagged edges of the human psyche. Specializing in the intersection of visceral textures and existential verse, Joe explores the friction between the stories we tell ourselves and the “rust” of objective reality.
The Creative Philosophy
Joe’s aesthetic—often described as “Psychotropic Topography”—rejects the idea of memory as a static archive. Instead, his work treats recollection as a kinetic, often violent chemical reaction. By pairing high-contrast, neon-veined visuals with paradoxical poetry, he maps the “feeling too tight” that defines modern existence. His work is a celebration of the Beautifully Wrong—the belief that our weaknesses, when pushed through the pressure of experience, become our most vivid strengths.
Themes & Technique
Central to the work of @steriojoe_ is the concept of Cosmic Debt. Whether through the lens of a camera or the stroke of a pen, he investigates the “payment” required for enlightenment and the inherent absurdity of searching for a sun that we are simultaneously hiding from. His use of color—specifically the war between oxidized umbers and electric blues—serves as a visual shorthand for the struggle between the decaying physical world and the immortal spark of the imagination.
The Mission
Through his ongoing series, Joe invites the viewer to “bark with the trees” and embrace the functional absurdity of life. He doesn’t aim to offer answers or a “whole” version of the self; rather, he seeks to illuminate the fragments, proving that even in the absence of light, there is a spectacular, neon music to be found in the noise.
“The truth never told, fueling one lie—change like the wind, learn how to cry.”
How to use this Biography:
Social Media: Use the “Creative Philosophy” section for your “About” or “Bio” page.
Exhibition: Place this at the entry of your gallery or the final slide of a digital portfolio.
Press Kit: Use the “Themes & Technique” section when describing your style to collaborators or curators.

@steriojoe 2025.