This is a picture of Ed. Ed isn’t in it. Ed is in your head. He switches from 2D to 3D on bank holidays. He’s a frame in the film, a flame in the kiln. In thunderstorms he dismantles himself, one steel rod at a time, and his rodent mouth spits phonemes, basslines, rat-a-tat-tat rattlesnake machine gun orgasms, adverts for porn and poeminems. I once saw him wrestling jackals, sandwiches and bluebottles, spilling pills, thrills and ills; but that was just my interpretation.
This isn’t a picture of Ed. Ed is in it. Ed isn’t in your head. He switches from 3D to 2D on work days.
Dedicated to the ludicrously talented writer, artist and vital force that is @3dgriffiths.