Page 4 was one of those moments that changed drastically, practically every time I looked at it. You can even see from my initial sketches, I couldn’t get the scale right. Enzo was also just an amalgam of parts at this point.
I knew I wanted to emphasize the immensity of Enzo a lot more. I text with Chris at length about who Enzo was and what his vibe was, now that he’s left in this sort of empty Hellscape, doomed to his solitary torture of perpetual boredom. He’s got no one left to entertain him, so he’s practicing Yeats and trying his best to look intimidating.
The more I look at Enzo in this page (and the more I’ve gotten to know him), I think he might be a bit drunk, a bit on the edge, and perhaps just a tad grateful to see another soul shambling about amid the bones and smoke...
Thanks for peelin’ it back with us again. What poem would you recite to while away eternity?
Page 5 is cooling on the windowsill…
Page 6 is just about cooked…
Smell you in the scummy papers, D.M. Sayres