That’s just you.
You never bore your fangs… until you did.
But if you’re here, then you must surely have an affection for them.
Here, you’ll find a lot of words, and not much else. This place is a place for Ziggy to share his work. A little piece of the artist is always left behind in the art – this is a place to connect and reflect.
Think of it as a rudimentary form of telepathy – a way for you and the artist to communicate. Words can heal; words can hurt. Words are tricky things; they play tricky games.
But if you’re here, then you should have a seat at the very least. The conversation has to start somewhere.
New Thoughts from the Void
For better or for worse, the void is always here.
My Little Icarus
Hubris was your art; flight was your heart.
200 mg
A short story about a feeling… and the fog.
The Welcome Email
Email #1 of the newsletter archives: what is ‘A Scream Into the Void’ and why should you indulge?
Some Words About My Gramps
A eulogy to a good man – we’re running out of those.
Sleep
I wrote this under a full moon in the orange sands of the desert. It’s funny how the feelings of the night fade but the memory of its beauty lingers on.
Ziggy’s Faves
Ziggy asked me to pass these along too. He mumbled something about “tickled fancies” then wandered off into the bushes.
a letter to a ghost
Phantoms come and phantoms go, but the stories they leave behind are less ephemeral.
200 mg
A short story about a feeling… and the fog.
Some Words About My Gramps
A eulogy to a good man – we’re running out of those.
The Woods Are Lovely, Dark, and Deep…
Choose a path.
OR DIP INTO THE NEWSLETTER ARCHIVES
Ziggy calls it “screaming into the void”: therapy meets telepathy meets you. Others might call it an electronic newsletter. Whatever you do, just don’t call it ‘Shirley’.
Ziggy hates that.