It was a dark time in the eighties, what with all the exploding shuttles, volcanoes, and other what-not, then Reagan almost started WWIII (he was just kidding) and a Russian colonel saved the world by refusing to press a button. No wonder everyone was coked out of their minds. I lived in Boston for awhile, and there I started drawing, usually with fat markers or charcoal because there was no subtlety in my thinking in those days, just hard edges and angry slashes. Then I moved to Los Angeles, and things got really dark.