“What's with all the skeletons and darkness?” I get asked some variation of this question quite a bit. Why the skulls? Why the monsters? Why does everything look like something terrible either just happened or is about to happen? My answer is usually pretty simple. “Because I can.” And I don't mean that in some defiant, fuck-the-art-world, misunderstood-genius kind of way. I mean it quite literally. I can finally draw whatever the hell I want. Which is particularly liberating

There are certain things that happen during childhood that, for reasons nobody can adequately explain, become permanent fixtures in your brain. Core memories. Not necessarily the important stuff. Not birthdays, graduations (I only had one, by the skin of my teeth, or because they just wanted me gone), or those carefully orchestrated moments your parents spent hundreds of dollars trying to make memorable. Sometimes it’s something completely fucking ridiculous. I have a few. On