I tried understanding the exact circumstances that brought me to Texas instead of Denmark, but nothing presented itself. I knew only that I had been on my own since that first night in the back country, and that I'd fled Los Angeles after my mother turned blue. Then I saw myself swimming through a vast underwater wilderness, going deeper and deeper, like a penny tossed into the hundred year ocean, or Alice falling very slowly into the rabbit hole.
Photomontage by me for Mitch Cullin's distressing cult novel, Tideland.
Tried to pick the least disturbing images I could find to fit this book. It is by no means an easy read.
