MOBY-DICK, Page 308

Title: He clutched it in an instant, seized the boat-knife, and impaling the letter on it, sent it thus loaded back into the ship. It fell at Ahab's feet.

6.75 inches by 8.5 inches
acrylic paint, ballpoint pen, colored pencil and ink on found paper
July 11, 2010

MOBY-DICK, Page 305

Title: He announced himself as the archangel Gabriel, and commanded the captain to jump overboard.

6.75 inches by 8.5 inches
acrylic paint, ballpoint pen, colored pencil, ink and marker on found paper
July 11, 2010

MOBY-DICK, Page 304

Title: Pulling an oar in the Jeroboam's boat, was a man of a singular appearance, even in that wild whaling life where individual notabilities make up all totalities. He was a small, short, youngish man, sprinkled all over his face with freckles, and wearing redundant yellow hair. A long-skirted, cabalistically-cut coat of a faded walnut tinge enveloped him; the overlapping sleeves of which were rolled up on his wrists. A deep, settled, fanatic delirium was in his eyes.

6.75 inches by 8.5 inches
acrylic paint, colored pencil and ink on found paper
July 11, 2010

MOBY-DICK, Page 091

Title: But we had not gone perhaps above a hundred yards, when chancing to turn a corner, and looking back as I did so, who should be seen but Elijah following us, though at a distance.

7.75 inches by 11 inches
ink and marker on found paper
November 29, 2009

MOBY-DICK, Page 090

Title: "My friend," said I, "what all this gibberish of yours is about, I don't know, and I don't much care; for it seems to me that you must be a little damaged in the head."

7.75 inches by 11 inches
acrylic paint and ink on found paper
November 29, 2009

MOBY-DICK, Page 089

Title: "Anything down there about your souls?"

6.75 inches by 8.5 inches
acrylic paint and ink on found paper
November 28, 2009

MOBY-DICK, Page 088

Title: ...the above words were put to us by a stranger, who, pausing before us, levelled his massive forefinger at the vessel in question. He was but shabbily apparelled in faded jacket and patched trowsers; a rag of a black handkerchief investing his neck. A confluent small-pox had in all directions flowed over his face, and left it like the complicated ribbed bed of a torrent, when the rushing waters have been dried up.

6.75 inches by 8.5 inches
acrylic paint and ink on found paper
November 27, 2009