Autumn de Wilde
I take my camera out to load it moments before I shoot. “Fuck, what the hell is this roll of film from?”
I open a drawer. A lonely roll of film stares up at me. “Fuck, what the hell is this roll of film from?”
I reach in my purse, a pocket, a cupboard. “Fuck, what the hell is this roll of film from?”
Mystery rolls.
When Zoetrope: All-Story asked me to design this edition, I wanted to draw from my archive. Af . . .