When I started writing, I pondered the ending - Thomas, or Hemmingway? Forced to focus elsewhere, those thoughts faded away. Resume, they come back. But, which is the cause - which the effect?

Pain. My academic advisor in college was adamant I was born to be a writer. He arranged for me to attend the premiere of The Lay of the Land in Pittsburgh and meet with Mel Shapiro and Lee Grant. It did not go well.

My career plan? I was fired for leaving work to "save" a girlfriend that attempted suicide. The rusty pair of scissors to my stomach was a bonus. So. Next morning, I accepted a temp position I was offered the prior week.

Why do I make cartoons? To document my thoughts on existence using a medium perfectly matched to my personality. Maybe? I'll help others. But most likely? My influence won't be felt until LONG after my demise. And my fear has always been to be Emily Dickinson, but LOST to time. Like THIS ...