Edgy, angular, these intricate narrative-pictorials fizz in that most anxiety-saturated space for high art, where the word and image meet easily and breezily on the bubbling rim of genre.
Samuel R. Delany
An exhilarating, high octane performance . . . consistently inventive--at once frenzied and furious and tender.
An extremely subtle, complex, and rigorous investigation into a set of related themes hovering around TV and death. Sewing Shut My Eyes is constantly exploring, with great rigor, wit, brilliance, and invention, how this folding screen actually folds. Andi Olsen's visuals . . . take the coverlet off and assault the reader with the dream nation's reptile brain.
Sewing Shut My Eyes is an avant-pop concept album in prose—nine cuts, nine darkly satiric, deeply conflicted takes on how our socity has become all about watching.
How one day we wokr up, looked in the mirror, and saw these two television screens staring back at us.
500 channels, and everything is on: sex, dwarfs, plane crashes, alien invasions, cyborgs, supermodels, side shows, dead poets, conjoined twins, cockroach conspiracies, the gender-blended, the genre-blasted . . . and, of course, always Mr. Blue-Eyed Death.
The only thing left to do is start sewing shut our eyes.