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Pg. I : It’s not to say there aren’t any other things that I’d like to be drawing. Pg. II : As if I’m above what I read, reread and am forever rereading in Ligotti and Lovecraft, Barron and Barker. That I wouldn’t be thrilled if asked to reproduce
Pg. III : There is an honesty in all of this; and, in that honesty, a love I joke about needing to justify, but frankly have no intention of doing so. After all, long before I had any formal awareness, much less understanding of anything of any grea
Pg. V : But as present as that love is, the moment I set pen to paper there arises a near-identical revulsion, a compulsion towards everything else I could be learning about, talking about, and have done so for years with little change: cages, black
Pg. VII : I understand this is a me problem.
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