If your answer is: "I'm not quite sure, but I want to find out," then you'll understand why I became so enthralled with the artist Igor Wolski.
Does your imagination flare as you study the depths and details of this incredible piece? Mine too.
Where are they? The stairs to the platform are cracked stone and faintly medieval. Imbricated turrets rise like asparagus tops from trees and a river. There are cupolas and podiums and a mole encloses the harbor of a crowded city.
And there are little green men with blue hats, and a golem with a white bow removes his own head, as the only really humanlike character (which then doubles as us) ponders the inside of its neck, where a young goblin has hidden himself.
She's surprised only by how this little fellow managed to find a hiding space inside the giant's body... especially as he doesn't have any hands.
AS A YOUNG MAN...
...I wrote a lot of grotesque fantasy, partially in reaction to the quiet middle class homes and rainy streets of my neighborhood. My language was florid and impressionistic; great jets of of the gobby stuff still come out if I but open the spigot.
As an adult, I know there is a fine line between self-indulgence and inspiration. Thus, Bill, the writer endeavors to tame Bill, the artist.
Nevertheless, the Promethean voice of my formative years is still the iceberg underlaying all my writing.
When I saw Igor Wolski’s art, my jaw dropped. Here was someone drawing what I had always written, only far better than I could ever hope.
How lucky I was then, when he agreed to do the art for Own Goal's tween graphic novel, Baby Barbarian.