The Drowned Life

An honor it was, too, as he told me, “You know that because you don’t get paid anything for it.”

The lion is fur, muscle, tendon, claw, and speed, five important ingredients of the unfathomable.

After my mother finally quit drinking, she entered a brief epoch of peace in her life. Gone were the paranoia, the accusations, the belittlements, the bitter rage of judgment, the look of fear. For years, nearly every day a lost weekend, she had been possessed by the dark amber ghast of gag-sweet Taylor Cream Sherry. Living with her back then had been like living with a vampire whose bite drained but never conferred immortality.

I had, at the time, an irrational, Luddite inclination that there was something morally bankrupt about making art with a computer.

There is no certainty but that there is no certainty.