THUNDER BELOW THE HORIZON
This drawing will give you an idea of the sort of chaos that pounded away at me during the days of mouse-in-the-water. Looking at it I can easily remember the pleasure I felt at getting the upper hand of the situation and dragging into the quotidian world such souvenirs of my exclusive corner of the beloved shining realm. At the time I wouldn't have traded my problems for anyone else's success; though of course I now feel differently, having realized the terrible price one pays for being isolated.
This image is circa 1968, my own Summer of Clut.