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ArtistBlack-and-white pen-and-ink underground comic illustration, highly detailed crosshatching, dense line work, Robert Crumb and early underground comix influence, dream-logic surrealism, no text, no captions, no borders. A small beige house with 10-inch shiplap siding fills the scene. At the center is a tiny concrete front entrance with three steps, each 6 inches high, forming a miniature Central American step pyramid. The top landing projects 30 inches from the house and is 24 inches wide. Standing in the doorway is a bald street-kid figure who is also a squat adult. The architecture and body are fused together. The screen door functions as his clothing, wrapping around him like a coat. In the middle of the screen door is a pocket-square-shaped mail slot resembling a breast pocket. Behind it, the inner glass door becomes part of his torso and internal anatomy. The figure’s body, doors, and doorway merge seamlessly. The door jamb itself appears alive, made from the same flesh and identity as the figure. Subtle facial features emerge from the wood grain of the jamb. The house seems self-aware. The doorway is both an entrance and a portrait. Atmosphere of a dream artifact, psychological symbolism, identity dissolved into architecture, uncanny yet calm. Extreme pen-and-ink textures, crisp black shadows, intricate crosshatching, obsessive detail, surreal autobiographical comic art, single-panel composition, high contrast, museum-quality illustration. No color. No text. No speech balloons. No watermark.
Prequel: Over the past few days, I have dreamt of the dream artifact comic strip repeatedly. I have been sleeping well and have not been waking myself up to record my dreams, as I have done for most of my life.
Dream Artifact
September 19, 2026
Burnaby, BC
3:38–5:00 AM
I am standing at a door. It is the front entrance of a small beige house with 10-inch shiplap siding. There is a small concrete front entry with three steps. The top landing extends 30 inches from the building and is 24 inches wide. The steps are 6 inches high. It resembles a small Central American step pyramid.
I look like my bald street-kid self, yet I am also a squat adult. The screen door and the inner glass door seem to be sections of myself. The screen door is like my clothes, with a pocket-square-shaped opening in the middle where the mail goes. My squat body is the section inside, and even the door jamb itself seems to be part of me.
