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He stopped drawing in color, and none of his figures had faces. Instead there was a scribble or mist, as if he saw everyone with the potential for great evil, and if so they deserved no recognition. The only person who he ever drew without an ominous cloud was Smith, the ginger boy who stumbled into his house one night.

an art of self destruction. it is the tendency of self-protection that pushed the pain-haunted pina to put so many self-embracing hand movements in her dance

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Fishing shack near Blue Rock, Nova Scotia. Photograph by Frank Pichel. That Nova Scotia sky reflected in the sea in all it's glory.