“Lungfish, Giant-Size,” page 12, 44” x 30,” charcoal and pastel on paper.

This one reads, ” Once, in the center ring of my teenaged mythology, I asked a preacher a question about reality. Preachers were in charge of keeping all the stories glued together and preventing anyone from peeking through the cracks, making sure no one would peel back the words and images or reality would disintegrate. Children would notice the change in light and shadow and wiggle their fingers into the seams and reality would be no more substantial than buggy wood. “How do I know if any of what you talk about is real?,” I asked the preacher. “What is real stands out, it shines like a galvanized roof,” he answered.