Sometimes It's Just Silent...no Sound At All.

House Of Leaves Is Certainly About The Unsettling Nature Of Fear - And It Was My Aim To Address That - But Its Also About Recovering From Fear.

The Thread Has Snapped. No Sound Even To Mark The Breaking Let Alone The Fall. That Long Anticipated Disintegration, When The Darkest Angel Of All, The Horror Beyond All Horrors, Sits At Last Upon My Chest, Permanently Enfolding Me In Its Great Covering Wings, Black As Ink, Veined In Bees' Purple. A Creature Without A Voice. A Voice Without A Name. As Immortal As My Life. Come Here At Long Last To Summon The Wind.

My Interest Is In How Meaning Is Communicated Via Language, And I Believe The Shape, Positioning, Even The Color Of The Language Has An Effect On Meaning.

Who Has Never Killed An Hour?

Absolutely Nothing Visible To The Eye Provides A Reason For Or Even Evidence Of Those Terrifying Shifts Which Can In A Matter Of Moments Reconstitute A Simple Path Into An Extremely Complicated One.