You Don't Have To Be Michelangelo To

We're All Made Of Stories. When They Finally Put Us Underground, The Stories Are What Will Go On. Not Forever, Perhaps, But For A Time. It's A Kind Of Immortality, I Suppose, Bounded By Limits, It's True, But Then So's Everything.

There Was Too Much Going On Here -- Too Much That Strayed From Odd All The Way Over Into Seriously Weird.

Can You Remember How You Felt When You Were Communicating Through Your Artwork? Not Just The Sense Of Completion, But The Sense Of Rightness- The Sense That You Had Brought To Life Something That Could Live Beyond Your Sphere Of Being, That Held In It Far More Potential Than You Ever Realized You Were Imbuing In The Work?

One Expected Growth, Change; Without It, The World Was Less, The Well Of Inspiration Dried Up, The Muses Fled.

As Far As I'm Concerned, The Only Difference Between Fact And What Most People Call Fiction Is About Fifteen Pages In The Dictionary.