May has become a strange month to me. I'm returning to the surface after a death in my family. As I resume work on these abyssal beings, I think of two who chose to die in water, and in May: my father many and many years ago, and now his twin sister, my aunt. She was friend, ally, artist, listener, vivid mind and believer in things not yet created. She leaves a hollow in the world, she leaves us standing on the shore. May has become a strange month.
More in a while, on the call of deep waters.