talked with a young writer friend the other day. he's 10. I've known Isaac for 2 years. used to do a class with him, now we hang and talk. it's not condescension to call him a writer, he's very busy at it, takes it seriously. and his use of visual has been instructive for me. he recently wrote a story in columns, 4 per page. the idea being that he was writing Chinese. his writing would be a feast for Jung, for it's full of archetypal imagery. a great deal of murder goes on in his stories, inscrutable Shakespearian tragedy. he wrote a series of mysteries featuring a Holmesian detective called Septic Option. I asked where he got he name. he replied he got it off a box of Rid-X, a product that treats septic tanks. he wasn't being self-consciously clever, as I would've had I gotten the name that way, he just saw the word combo and liked it. he very much thinks of himself as a writer but doesn't need to convince the world yet. there is something greatly therapeutic for him in his writing. writing and drawing provide a vocabulary by which he can deal with the traumas of life. so there's an aspect of expressive threapy to his work, but it would be cheating Isaac to say that's all his work is. it's a basic confrontation with elemental issues, for sure, and also an artistic journey. he's not at the point where he rewrites, it's still simply a mighty outpouring, but there is integrity to his artistic vision. that's what gets me about the Foetry drama. so much wallowing in rep. and it's all such a mess of non-issues, except that they're promulgated by needy people prancing publicly. what a thin tea that sweat makes! nervous artist types.