My piece for @fossil-fighters-zine... 2!! So excited to work with so many talented writers and artists again!!!

This time I chose to make something about Raptin, who has invaded every inch of my brain. I hate him so much. What is wrong with this guy. I want to put him under a microscope. I'm obsessed.

Behold

my dinosaurs

funky heraldic inspired piece depicting the legends of old for the @fossil-fighters-zine

Link for easy access, you should go check it out, everyone did such a good job and put in so much time and care

Fossil Fighters Zine: Volume 2 has been released!!

With over 30 contributors and 70+ pages of art, writing and comics you guys are in for a real treat! Join us on an adventure that takes you past wild battles and the everyday life of our elemental friends.

In addition to the PDF of the zine you are also able to download a merch bundle that includes postcards, 3DS home screes and a compso crochet pattern!

An abandoned theater in Rochester, New York. Formerly a pornographic theater, then just a facade after the Walgreens next door gutted it to use as a warehouse. The Walgreens with it's shampoo and baby formula and half of the store locked in cages; the contradictions stare into you. You go because it is the nearest pharmacy, close in walking distance for you and your disabled loved ones.

The Walgreens shuts down and it too, is now just a vacant facade, next to a vacant facade. You stare into the large windows meant to advertise it's contents, now only showcasing absence. A wide open space with torn up floors. You think about how perfect the location could be for low income housing, for squatting, for anything other than standing as a constant reminder of the city's failures to her people. The parking lot is empty, save for the occasional cop car, to ensure no one uses the lot or the building for anything at all. The cop ensures the space will stay as useless as himself.

They add letters to the theater's marquee; a reminder and encouragement of surveillance. "If you see something, say something. In progress call 911, over and done call 311." They board up the doors, ensuring that the space will stay in it's intended form: empty, useless, an eyesore that reminds everyone of their place. The freshly boarded up door has been emblazoned with a message from those who lack.