
A real "we've got a nephew" of graphic design and illustration, mental illness held at bay by a very nice vegetable garden and cats.
Lapsed printmaker, you should ask me about it and I'll be very weird
all standing in a circle, ritually intoning the sacred phrases
"well..."
"anyway..."
"time's gettin' on..."
"haha I don't want to keep you here all day..."
Every once in a while still someone slaps their thighs. You can't hear it, of course, but you can feel it