And the two headed woman wandered into sight around a heap of rubble. She stopped and looked down at Zerchi. …He noticed that the head of Mrs. Grales slept soundly on the other shoulder while Rachel smiled. It seemed a young, shy smile that hoped for friendship.

…He glanced again at the face of Mrs. Grales. It had grown gray with the impersonal mask of coma. …Somehow he felt certain it was dying. He could imagine it withering and eventually falling away like a scab or an umbilical cord. Who then was Rachel? And what?

…His vision went foggy, he could no longer see her form. But cool fingertips touched his forehead and he heard her say one word.


Then she was gone. He could hear her voice trailing away in the new ruins. “La la la, la-la-la…”

~ excerpt from A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr.

books, illustrations, quotes




     The last known cases of smallpox occurred in 1978 in England. This was a result of the virus escaping a microbiology research laboratory at the University of Birmingham Medical School. The first victim, Janet Parker, worked as a medical photographer on the floor above the lab. Henry Bedson, who was conducting the research on the smallpox strain that led to Parker’s eventual death, committed suicide by cutting his throat with a  pair of scissors. This happened shortly after he was quarantined in his home.
    The investigation found that the safety of Bedson’s laboratory had been in question well before the outbreak, though it had somehow passed inspections regardless. As a result, WHO instigated stricter controls over the remaining stocks of smallpox, most of which was destroyed. Smallpox now officially exists in two labs, one in the US and the other in Russia.
medical, medical history

The Suicide of Henry Bedson


a drawing by my mother, c. 1970s


My mother went through a phase of children’s illustrations long before I was born. This particular image hung on the wall of my childhood bedroom. I stumbled across it the other day and experienced a wave of nostalgia, but also felt the lingering fear it used to cause me when I was little.

This series featured original ideas (such as this one), but many of the drawings were inspired from traditional fairy tales. She adored The Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Anderson and always read these tales to me in their original form. For this reason she refused to take me to Disney films as she felt they butchered the stories to make them family friendly.

I do kind of like classic Disney movies because they feel strangely forbidden to me (I went to my friend’s house to watch them), but I can also understand her point of view as well. If you were raised on a Cinderella where the step sisters chopped off their heels to fit that glass slipper, and who eventually had their eyes pecked out by birds at the royal wedding, watching the Disney version might seem a bit dull.

horror, personal

A drawing by my mother.




so very fit



Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

~excerpt from There Will Come Soft Rains by Sara Teasdale

quotes, writing

neither bird nor tree




chaos in cat form



This was an alternative sketch to an earlier image, ‘Witch’. Today I decided to flesh it out and finish it, create something seperate and new.

personal, random