What You Are Will Make

I Think A 23-page Ordinary Comic Is An Investment For The Artist, But If You're Doing Something 60 To 104 Pages, That's A Really Big Investment For An Artist. So Unless You've Got Someone Who Wants To Pay You While You're Doing It Or Up Front, It's Kind Hard To Get Someone To Do That With You, Unless You're The Artist Yourself.

It's Frightening For One Artist To See Another One, Any Other One Turn Away From Art.

There Is No Articulate Resonance. The Common Problem, I Suppose, Is To Have More To Say Than Vocabulary And Syntax Can Bear. That Is Why I Am Hunting In These Desiccated Streets. The Smoke Hides The Sky's Variety, Stains Consciousness, Covers The Holocaust With Something Safe And Insubstantial. It Protects From Greater Flame. It Indicates Fire, But Obscures The Source. This Is Not A Useful City. Very Little Here Approaches Any Eidolon Of The Beautiful.

It Is A Magic Book. Words Mean Things. When You Put Them Together They Speak. Yes, Sometimes They Flatten Out And Nothing They Say Is Real, And That Is One Kind Of Magic. But Sometimes A Vision Will Rip Up From Them And Shriek And Clank Wings Clear As The Sweat Smudge On The Paper Under Your Thumb. And That Is Another Kind.

Pain ... After You've Lived With It Long Enough, Isn't Pain Anymore. It's Something Else.