I like things with layers. I like tiramisu. I like the Earth and all of its layers, even if, at this point, some are a little too thin; much like my skin, though I’m told it has at least eight layers. I like books with layers of meaning. I like cold nights and layers of blankets and Smore’s, of course. A good sandwich has lots of layers, though the best ones have the layers smashed together in bite-sized pieces for unchallenging consumption and easy digestion, like my 24-hour news channel. I like Christopher Nolan movies because they’re full of layers. I forget the name, but I like the one about that guy with anterograde amnesia – which reminds me that, if I remember correctly, the brain has three layers of memory and the retina has ten layers of eye stuff. I like people with lots of layers, though I limit myself to three, so as not to outpace my brain. Oh, and I like paintings with layers.
But on occasion, I like to strip down and get rid of all those layers. I like to dive into the dark knight commando-style and see what’s underneath – to take ten or twenty steps back and end up at the first. I imagine there are some people who enjoy the same; so, here are a few mementos, layer by layer of what I do and how I do it. Hopefully these are helpful or at least entertaining. Or they may be, as they say in Texas, like watching paint dry.