"I sat alone in the dark basement studio. I'd been working in silence for hours and felt weary. My brain was past the point of creating anything substantial so I called it a night. Suddenly, a movement at the window from across the room caught my eye. I froze, not breathing. The glimmer of white in the window, I was sure of it...a face. Hesitating, I walked towards the window only seeing the reflection of a scared look across my face. I convinced myself the face was an illusion. I laughed nervously and thought myself a fool. Being a fan of Raymond Chandler's 1930s and 1940s crime detective stories, I had been working on drawings of mystery and suspense, but the thought of one of those stories coming true was frightening. Each darkly rendered, heavily contrasted, and confrontational drawing had the same sense of drama as in old movies and photographs and it was creeping me out. My ears strained to hear prowling footsteps of anyone, but all I heard was the creaking of pipes and ominous wind blowing outside."–Sandra Bellerive