dear father walked across his sanctum, his footsteps echoing throughout the room. everything was quiet here, everything a part of his design. this room occupied an interesting niche within the mind of dear father, a respite from the noise of the outside world. relics and ancient memories that had been given new life through art were littered throughout the room. now, transcribed on a blockchain, they existed permanently within the structure of his own neural web. he reflected on these works, and the artists who had created them. their provenance on his mind was permanent, an expanding vault of digital art stored within the endless sea of data that was his mind.
