Comics were predictable. A constant source of a particular style of art. Sure, there were different styles, a multitude of panels combinations, a standard pallet of colors.
The Bill Sienkeweiz happened in my life.
He joined the team of creators on New Mutants and experimented. All over the pages. It was out of control. My young mind was blown. I had a visceral reaction to it. I was outraged. Angry. A mess. What was happening?
Still, I was intrigued. I kept reading, issue after issue. Then I started to get it. This was art!
It was better than all the other stuff. I craved more. Eventually I got to art school and everything was fine.
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