Meet a NY artist warping flesh and bone with digital ruthlessness.
“He wasn’t sure what to do. If he left the rock, it would only take a few minutes of desert air to dry his pool, and then all that would remain of him would be a small crucible of brown powder, a powder the wind would find and scatter. He wished to stay there, to protect the pool.
“But after a time, he thought differently. He understood that if he stayed upon the rock, he would simply disappear as well. And so, he rose.”
—Scott Anderson, from Triage.