It Was As Though In These Last

Horror Fiction Shows Us That The Control We Believe We Have Is Purely Illusory, And That Every Moment We Teeter On Chaos And Oblivion.

What I Tried To Do Is Deliver Movies That Have Worked For Me More Than Once.

Leavening The Flat Bread Of What We Know, With The Yeast Of What We Dream May Come To Pass.

The Paintings Of Francis Bacon To My Eye Are Very Beautiful. The Paintings Of Bosch Or Goya Are To My Eye Very Beautiful. I've Also Stood In Front Of Those Same Paintings With People Who've Said, 'let's Get On To The Botticellis As Soon As Possible.' I Have Lingered, Of Course.

The Sun Rose Like A Stripper, Keeping Its Glory Well Covered By Cloud Till It Seemed There'd Be No Show At All.