Pre-Order Now! From Unsolited Press, November 2025

How do you know the truth after the story you most trust disappears? Self-betrayal, polyamory, adultery, and an unconventional life in a one-room, rural Maine schoolhouse ends in a crisis mirroring the larger, societal polarization and collapse of meaning. Compass shattered, an artist's wisdom guides a course home, revealing a hopeful image of the creative life: a way forward.

“And so we planned an all-salt dinner. With no water served. We had grain alcohol in large pitchers, and only tumblers to drink from, with pretzels and lemons and lemon pepper and canned soups prepared in large quantity over Sterno pots. And afterward we reclined on towels on the grown lawn and talked about ticks and scratched our elbows and backs-of-knees. And this we tried to continue as long as possible, though our guests despised us, and our host (the acquaintance whose family owned the resort) also despised us, and as our skin lost its turgor . . . with mosquitos in our ears. Guests left. Hosts left. Someone drank lake water, was ill, and left.”

“Unless I decide to know what is going to happen or if I already know what the story is, otherwise how would I begin to arrange all of the things, like the chipping paint and peeling linoleum and the electric toothbrush and the spare head for it and the line of carelessly applied caulk and of course layers of debris in no deliberate pattern, I would certainly be making something if I described the pattern for you.”

An image transformed over time in a consideration of time as a material phenomenon.

Clouds over an Alpine Lake, printed with one full ink cartridge on sheets of translucent vellum. Changes in printing marked in silver ink. Over six hundred prints compiled from first to last.

Volume 1 available here

Volume 2 available here