A poem from last November. nevihtasedelainribesovesele a storm is brewing and the fish are happy Health and peace, everyone.—L.
Here in Slovenia I feel like Cassandra on the shore, watching a terrible danger grow and gather. Around me I see dithering justified by denial and despair. “Bah, it’s nothing! The panic is worse than the disease! It’s the hysteria that will destroy us! Think about the economy!” “It’s hopeless. We’ll all be infected. Might […]
TL; DR: People in Slovenia are not taking covid-19 serious. But it is fucking serious so everyone should be responsible and do their part to stop and slow the spread of the new coronavirus. No excuses. Follow your local health guidelines. They’re there to protect you. Maintain social distance. Don’t touch people. Don’t shake hands. […]
I’ve wanted to write this article for many months, but in the dazzling clarity of twenty-twenty, I can put it off no longer. Australia is aflame. The Usanian president has assassinated a foreign statesman and killed several unfortunately bystanding “collaterate damages.” The world is burning and climate catastrophe deniers have resorted to open murder, to […]
This weekend, a few months late, I finally completed all the art for my roleplaying game book, Ultraviolet Grasslands and the Black City. Or simply, UVG. Today is Wednesday. Waterday in Korea. That this big project is nearly behind me has not yet percolated into my waking mind. It’s been more than two years since […]
Farewells to my father.
Nine times out of ten, when somebody who has never (or rarely) commissioned art before reaches out to me about making a piece for them, one of the first questions they ask is, “Umm, so … how do we proceed?” I then explain how, and we proceed. Seven times out of ten, when somebody who […]
It’s time I took a bit of a breather and some personal stock. The air outside is clear. Not too toxic today. The thirty-lane toll station is moving briskly. If I look back five years, or even three years, I wouldn’t have imagined I’d possibly be here now. Indeed, looking back over my life, there […]
“The eyes aren’t on them any more, they’re on us. It’s what we do that matters now,” he sucked at some tea, “we’re in the Recorded Era now.”
One of the fondest memories of my childhood is my mother teaching me to draw. I was three years old or so and I loved trucks because they had lots of wheels bigger than myself. My mother taught me to draw a squarish shape for the tractor cab, a line for the coupling, another rectangular […]