A Contagion of Creativity

It all started back when NFTs were booming and everyone was suddenly a digital artist, a collector, and a crypto prophet. I minted my first ever NFT, a Hypno Bat, and sold it for $20. Twenty bucks. Not life-changing money, but mentally? That was massive. I remember thinking, Hang on… what? Someone paid actual money for something that came out of my brain? That moment cracked something open.

And weirdly, it was also around the time bats were being blamed for bringing the entire planet to a grinding halt. Suddenly this animal that had always been misunderstood, shadowy, nocturnal, and kind of punk-rock got handed the role of global villain. Of course it did. Humans always need a scapegoat. So naturally, I leaned in. I didn’t want to bring down the human race, we’re doing a fine job of that ourselves, but I did want to make my own bat. One that could mutate endlessly. One that could evolve.

So the Hypno Bat multiplied.

Not as a gimmick. Not as a trend. But as a living archive of my changing styles, ideas, moods, and creative phases. Each bat is a timestamp. A mutation. A snapshot of where my mind was at that moment. Now there are hundreds of them. A whole colony of visual thought-forms tracking my evolution as an artist.

The Hypno Bat is a symbol of my stubborn refusal to die creatively. It’s my artistic cockroach, adaptable, unkillable, surviving every algorithm, every platform collapse, every “AI will replace you” headline. It mutates so it can move forward.

And now it’s a sticker.

Which feels perfect, because stickers spread. They travel. They stick to laptops, notebooks, water bottles, lampposts, guitar cases, the edges of desks, the corners of sketchbooks, and the forgotten places where creativity spills into the physical world. They become little viral messengers. Not a contagion of fear but a contagion of creativity.

Stick a Hypno Bat somewhere and you’re basically saying: Art still exists. Creativity still survives. Even if you triple-mask, triple-lockdown, triple-burnout, creativity mutates and keeps going.

What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?

Create.

Words. Video. Art. Podcasts… just create.

That’s it. That’s the whole thing. I don’t want to “consume content.” I want to make it. I don’t want to scroll endlessly through other people’s lives. I want to build mine. The Hypno Bat is a byproduct of that urge, to document, to mutate, to survive, to spread ideas instead of despair.

These stickers aren’t just merch. They’re markers. Proof that art doesn’t die quietly. It adapts. It sticks. It spreads. It finds cracks in the concrete and grows through anyway.

And if you spot a Hypno Bat out in the wild someday, know this: it’s not there to end the world.

It’s there to remind you that creativity still lives… and so do you.