Children of the Devil

"Children of the Devil"
From the UCSF Anatomy Lab Series by Peter Bogdanov
In the depths of the UCSF Anatomy Lab—where the sterile air hums with the electric tension of unspoken truths—Peter Bogdanov summoned something unholy from beneath the skin. The painting titled Children of the Devil was not born so much as it was exorcised.
Created amidst cadavers and the cold gaze of medical observation, this disturbing piece emerged as a confrontation with legacy—genetic, spiritual, and monstrous. The twisted figures, born from the same crimson womb, coil like embryonic serpents, neither living nor fully dead. Their eyes—if you can call them that—seem to follow you, not with curiosity but with accusation. They are not merely anatomical studies, but warnings in flesh. Spawn of some invisible contagion, their forms mimic human gestation but veer violently into the grotesque.
Peter painted this in a trance state after prolonged observation of a malformed fetus preserved in formaldehyde. The lab had fallen quiet, save for the rhythmic hiss of air filtration. As the brushes moved, he felt as if he were merely a conduit—guided by something ancient, something buried beneath centuries of medical science and deeper still, beneath civilization’s polished veneer.
The final canvas is an anatomical revelation and a spiritual confession. These are not children of man. They are offspring of fear. Of ego. Of science unchecked.
Of the devil we deny exists.
And yet—they are ours.