Art by Alex Adam

30/06/2025

What if everything you were taught about “being a man” was wrong?

We shave our trembles.
We armour our tears.
We bury the boy who dared to feel.
⤵️ Until the silence becomes a tomb.

THIS BOOK IS THE SHATTERING YOU NEED.

A Gentleman’s Guide to Shattering isn’t about breaking down—
It’s about breaking OPEN.

💥 For every man who’s choked back tears in a locker room
💥 Every father who inherited wounds he never chose
💥 Every boy still hiding his tenderness to survive

Poems that name the unspoken:
✦ The dread of “lost masculinity”
✦ Childhood roots of toxic armour
✦ The revolutionary power of whispering “I’m not okay”
✦ How to reparent the boy you buried

🔥 SPECIAL LAUNCH OFFER 🔥
📚 Paperback: Signed copies available

Tap the link below to read “Father’s Voice in the Blood” — the viral poem that started the conversation.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0FG3DT99X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1E610X5BL92SB&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.V9c9Cl2wjuI_6J4_F4kksGFHx_WQSZyYH2l1welQWjXvPl9eXf0S8d0lOP1fijL-.-1pndVYHCJ_s3U3puArnz9lcqDJAW-6dkfELVVa967I&dib_tag=se&keywords=a+gentleman%27s+guide+to+shattering&qid=1751307522&sprefix=a+gentleman%27s+guid+to+shatter%2Caps%2C2721&sr=8-1

SHARE IF YOU BELIEVE:
Tenderness isn’t weakness.
Asking for help isn’t surrender.
And real strength blooms in the broken places.

29/06/2025

NEW LAUNCH: Traditional Japan Collection 🇯🇵

Immerse your space in the quiet beauty of Japan.
Featuring exclusive limited edition prints on premium paper – think cherry blossoms, serene landscapes & intricate details.

Shop the collection now:
https://artbyalexadam.com/

Alex Adam Art

26/06/2025

Through the Chromatic Veil

The world peeled back like citrus rind—
a tunnel spun of liquid sound.
Gravity’s a forgotten law,
as humming colors pull me down.
The rabbit winks with opal eyes,
his pocket watch drips mercury.
I fall sideways through shifting skies—
where up dissolves ecstatically.

Walls dissolve to breathing moss,
a thousand eyes in emerald glaze.
Whispers bloom where logic’s lost,
in gardens lit by phantom rays.
My hands unravel, strand by strand,
to liquid light and spectral thread.
I walk on air, on shifting sand,
with mushroom lungs and thoughts widespread.

Time unspools like tangled yarn,
past and future braid as one.
A teacup holds a neutron star,
while singing stones drink up the sun.
The Cheshire Grin? A quantum haze—
it flickers in and out of thought.
Reality’s a mirrored maze,
where every truth is sold and bought.

The hole expands—no end, no floor—
just pulsing veins of amethyst.
Probability blooms at the core,
in clouds of pixel ghosts and mist.
I touch the center—cool and vast—
a silent hum where all things fuse.
The fall was home, found here at last:
one blinding, boundless singularity.