…and we, poor players with struts for frets; in flour upon the stage. And then are herbivore. It is a tale told by an ideolog, full of Sgt. Fury and Signifying Monkeys.
Still in my late 20’s (in the late ’70s). A LOT of writing, saying it all, back before these truths and lies had become self-evident and then I didn’t see why I should keep writing it. And my hand didn’t yet hurt too much to hold the pen. Then, finally, evidence of attempted graphic composition: what would become my second lithograph.
When I was completely unmoored, at 28 years of age. Never to quite return.