A couple years back I was diagnosed with Bi-Polar II—something that made a lot of my past suddenly make a lot more sense. While now medicated, there’s a certain lonely space, an absence of emotion I’m used to, that becomes an emptiness. A kind of ending.

As time goes on, an accumulation of emptiness is still something of a life, just less and less.

For this book, additions of empty spaces were added to already empty pages; differences only in the tone of absence defined many of the pages, with additional content being gleaned from old sketchbooks.