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Notes: Around the time I began drawing Zoonbats, I was living miles out of town on a country road similar to this highway. It was the only place I could find to rent at the time, and although it was beautiful out there, I was constantly nervous that my car, which could generously be called unreliable, would give up the ghost and I’d be stuck with a long bicycle commute for the foreseeable future. At first, though, everything was all right, and it was my only experience to date of living in a place where I didn’t need to lock the doors – in fact, I didn’t even need to close the doors.
As it turned out, the car was more reliable than the owners of the house, who commenced on a protracted remodeling schedule almost as soon as I moved in. Gradually, the house was dismantled as I continued to live there, and little regard was given to the rather high rent I was paying. Each day I’d return home from work to find some part of the house’s interior gone without warning. As the seasons began to change, the kitchen became unusable. Finally the bathroom was gutted one day, so I packed up my room and left.
With no place to live for a while, I spent a lot of time at the library drawing, and that’s when Zoonbats began. I remember penciling the first several pages and getting ready to ink. I was wondering if should hatch the pages or not. A major decision that I spent about three minutes considering, that led to untold hundreds of hours of drawing tiny hatch marks.