Mysterious 'cat burglar' pilfers Cryptokitty from digital art installation

He described "Stealing" as a mutual playground for explorers, and participants largely responded with goodwill and good humor: Ethereum-savvy art fans played with the blood-tokens' occult implications - for instance moving.

"I think people just wanted to interact with and therefore become part of the art in a sense," said Abosch.

Abosch made it clear that this cat burglary would not be the start of a larger NFT collectibles or art collection.

As the conversation turned to the state of blockchain-based art, he expressed dismay with a number of ongoing trends, starting with valuations of digital art being rooted primarily in their rarity.

Bronze sculptures, he explained, are scarce because sculptors can only afford so much bronze - with real-world art, there are inherent resource-related limitations.

The wave of speculators and collectors moving into NFT-backed art also seemed to leave him uncomfortable.

"I find that people buy art for one or more of three reasons: because they genuinely want to experience the work, as a form of social proof, or as an investment opportunity."

Far too few, he implied, purchase art for the experience.

He bemoaned that between the medium, the artists, and the buyers, the current cryptoart landscape has effectively recreated the foulest qualities of the legacy art world - what he called "One of the most corrupt industries on the planet" - both fueled by avarice, ego, and hype.

While Abosch's complaints might strike some as the archetypal grumblings of an old head poo-poohing the new generation, he does see a bright spot among the NFT art madness: a forthcoming community of art lovers focused on on-chain work.