The book of Jim

So I'm continuing to do my head in reading jim woodring's books - found a wonderful 'author's note' in his book of jim

"When I was a little boy I discovered I had the ability to produce drawings that frightened me out of my wits. Somewhere beneath the chaparral in the hills of Burbank, California, lie the remains of a leather pouch of my drawings; I buried them there when I was about six. I simply could not live with them"

I'm not surprised, Jim's adventures through his dimly lit but strangely resonating psychological landscape are literally giving me nightmares. Cheap thrills though :P