This is my inner sanctum of sketchiness, every night before I sleep I draw or write my dreams so they don't get in the way of a good night's rest. Each picture is a self portrait narrative, some pictures become other pictures. Can you figure out which ones? Are you clever? Well this is my mad world, so enjoy.
"It is the very mind itself That leads the mind astray; Of the mind, Do not be mindless."
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Page 50: deadman blood
"I was following him in your forest, hoping to acquire one of his indigo feathers... and then I lost him... and then I found him again. He was perched on your chest tasting your blood. He looked at me. Then he flew directly west in a straight line - his small beak red with your blood." -Nobody
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