He came from nowhere, footing across sand and brush, to confront a parking lot and an Edge City. He made his way through rows and rows of parked cars, an unlit stub of cheroot between scarred lips. When he removed his hat to wipe the sweat, his heavy brow still cast shadow over dark eyes.
. . . he draws from African cosmology and Caribbean imagery to create surreal and spiritually enlightening images in his paintings.
". . . my work has the look and feel of fantasy, but I need to use real-world physics, chemistry, biology and engineering to force me to have ideas. A world where anything can happen is a boring world."
SPACE went to war with itself at 8:20 Tuesday morning / on the phony oriental rug in my living room.