I had a dream about this once. I couldn’t find my way home… …and then I realised I was dead.

Bastards! That what the followers of the White Christ are! Bastards! They eat their own God- eat his flesh and drink his blood! Abominable! They hate us and want us dead. Pray to the Gods to protect you- We have many Gods; they have only one.


Palace of Tears.

“We achieved power, held onto it, and enjoyed it ruthlessly to the fullest. We made wars, suppressed or exterminated peoples, and always imposed our will without mercy. There was no one who could stand up to us. We committed atrocities that make all history sound like children’s tales, atrocities for which language has no words and which no mind can imagine. And nobody ordered us to stop. We waded through blood up to our hips, and no bolt of lightning struck us down. We stacked up skulls into heaps, and no higher power intervened. So we concluded that we ourselves were gods.” (pp. 195, Andreas Eschbach)


It is a strange and lucrative business impeaching upon others with no set understanding or direction.

I am an illustrator and lover of all things literary based and beyond. Here splayed on these walls you will find rattlings from my many of my own drawing journals; inspirations from the void prospect and a collection of meandering thoughts or quotes from distant novels/novellas/poems/speeches and other such nonsense.