My drawings are sweet. My stories are dark. My pictures are unrealistic. My stories tell the truth. I don't know why this is. We creators are full mysteries and contradictions.
Here is a story just out,"How to Crack An Egg," at Halfway Down the Stairs litmag.
What paradoxes do you find in your own creating? Where are you truthful and raw and gritty? Where are you lighthearted? And when shall the twain meet?
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