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These were done as a sort of homage to your work. Your cover painting to Islands and the "snuff brown wall where Spanish lizards run" was what I had in mind when I created them. The images were hand painted using a Wacom digital tablet and pen. They are composite images, the very bottom image (the texture) is from a Jet Propulsion Labs photo of Triton, one of Neptunes moons. The rest is hand painted with semi transparent layers so that the texture of the moon image shows through. Anyway, thanks for all the great work. Here's hoping you will renew your writing partnership with Ian in some fashion. "Let There Be Light" was truly excellent.

Mark Taylor
Talking Wall Studio



I don't know where you're going
I don't know where you've been
I only know one life your living
The one that I have seen

One life is lived through my eyes
Many more through eyes unseen
The lives we live aren't one size
But customized, individualized, each scene

I questioned, questioned life unknowable
And knew no less, no more, but glee
Oh, sublime paradox so loveable
It was life that questioned me

Nigel Boulton
Jackson, Mississippi



Perspicacity
It’s a rare commodity
Sensitivity
Listening with your whole self
Hear the heart song sing to us.

Tareef Naathim



Cold roof garden
just the smokers, and us
. . . silence

James X. Willis
Melbourne, Australia



Maurice Cloud maucloud@earthlink.net
USA 13-Nov-2001 02:32 GMT  

A NOTE ON THE TYPE
The type selected by Peter Sinfield for “Lizard” is 24 pt. Pooktip and 4 pt. Farkdrollop. Both typefaces were developed in the late 1000’s by the undeservedly obscure Trappist xylotomist Esliest Lipsycle who in between a mundanity of lay duties found time to admonish volcanoes, renew virgins, and, fortunately for posterity, design type. Elegant and plain Pooktip reveals in its curvaceous chunkiness a paucity of pretentiousness that underlines its uplifting innerness. Farkdrollop lures the eye with its rounded points and groveling angles before exploding into punctuation.

Lipsycle’s studio was a hive of creation and commotion, nevermore so as when his two drooling progeny, Spatula and Giblet, were playfully underfoot . . . their gibberish often inspiring their momentarily stymied father. Both children, alas, perished when sent to play with bears in nearby woods by their mother, Hypatia, who returned the wink of an itinerant coal-hauler. This tragedy slowly claimed the senses of Esliest eroding the individuality of his few remaining types, the last, Stool, evincing a dripping bitterness no file nor chisel could assauge. Grief finally overtook Lipsycle in 1112 when he sought out an on-rushing rockslide and stood steadfast . . . His widow briefly attempted to continue his work as a type founder but, befuddled by rounded vowels, quit to enlist in the Burgandian army. Swiftly elevated to the rank of Sosauvin command seemed within reach, but she succumbed to a salamander bite at the river Oost in the winter campaign of ’47.



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