I've been working on this design for a few weeks. As we assess the extent of the damage wrought by TLASILA after its blind, twenty-year romp, a new, encapsulating motif seemed not just appropriate, but utterly essential.
(Click for a larger version of the image.)
This is how I feel. Braced for attack, poised to slip (unnoticed, if fate holds sway) through the acrid cloak of impermanence into the unknown.
Rope Cosmetology, Three Resurrected Drunkards, TS solo, Karl Schmidt Verlag, my future.
TLASILA, my past, one I vow to protect, respect, unmercifully tweak, and share...