“I really desire this book. I’m sure it is probably a sin of some kind to want something that much.”

The Codex Seraphinianus, AKA the Codex Serafini is one of the great inpenatrable tomes of our time. An encylcopedia written in an invented language that slightly resembles tamil . and detailing every aspect of a place that vaguely resembles earth, from chemistry to clothing, and especially zoology.
I know what it is to sinfully desire a book. I get shivers just thinking about it. I’m considering taking something from one of it’s volumes as a tattoo. I think it captures my ascetic of humor, mystery, science and transcendance greater than any other work. At the very least I want sections of it written all over my flesh in wet ink so I can be photographed lurking naked in dillapidated old victorians.

I’ve been thinking a lot about narative art lately. Using images to tell a story or send a messge rather feelingings, impressions. This is the work of Deth Sun . Yes, that is his real name, no relation to Death Star. There’s something in his pearly canvases that reminds me these images I think are personal and hidden at the very core of me are universal. Obscure, yet familiar, like dreams and fairy tales. This isn’t narrative, exactly, nor surrealism, nor impressions. It draws on the blank verse of the comics page, that ancient medium that knows where which lines to leave in, and which to take out. The results, ideally, are a rich, fully rendered world in which the characters are underdevelloped enough to form vessels into which we pour ourselves.

My good friend Daniel dated his sister for a while. She is most certainly not another one of the endless . Her name is Phil.

“Be good to Phil,” I would tell him, “or Deth will come for you.”

Of course his webpage is Heavenly

go to his page, stroll around. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him. He’s doing all right for himself it seems.