I Look Crazy. I Know I Do.

But Paper And Ink Have Conjuring Abilities Of Their Own. Arrangements Of Lines And Shapes, Of Letters And Words On A Series Of Pages Make A World We Can Dwell And Travel In.

The Thing I Call ‘my Mind’ Seems To Be Kind Of Like A Landlord That Doesn’t Really Know Its Tenants.

I Was Unable To Sleep And I Would Stay Up And Draw These Little Cartoons. Then A Friend Showed Them Around. Before I Knew It I Was A Cartoonist.

When We Finish A Book, Why Do We Hold It In Both Hands And Gaze At It As If It Were Somehow Alive?

Love Is An Exploding Cigar We Willingly Smoke.