One
day in Autumn of 2004 I found a heap of old cardboard boxes
and other discarded packaging material in my
grandfather's shed. Among it was a box for a chainsaw. On
the back of it there was this peculiar sequence of drawings
in black and white. I
looked at it for a while but to be honest, I couldn't make any
sense of it. Commissioned art printed on the back of the box
for chainsaws, only to be discarded, never to be seen by anyone
else again. And there I was, looking at these pictures on a
cold day in October. The pictures began to whisper to me. Little
tales of love and sorrow, hate and terror, big ideas and small
hopes. Man creates universes, first with his thoughts, then
with with his words.
That is why this very webpage exists. I want to fill this hollow
space of empty pictorials with your words, the words of the
graphic novel. Help me bring the stories in the drawing come
to life, there's a hell of a lot of them in there. Now, you
write one, too. // Yours, Johannes (monochrom). |
