Although I could settle on either of a few, my internal politic unanimously rests with Those Legs. It came and then went with a fluidity quite rare in the grand compromise we call Commercial Art. Two Colors (both dark), One Image, No Photo, Small Teaser. After meeting the story's author just a few days ago, he used this cover in attempt to identify any professional link he and I might have had. "Did you do My Burlesque Cover?" he asked avidly. I smirked with a brief exhale of the nose. "I did," I said. Confirmed by his bold, yet understandably harmless sense of entitlement, I resorted back to the inherit conflict I share with this most essential process. The cover fosters the designer's task to translate the exhaustion of One to the greeting of Many. The means of which this task is unfolded are constructed entirely by the intuition of said designer. The Burlesque Cover was a prime example of this form's potential success. The Burlesque Cover was mine — particularly, all mine. — Nathanael Roney, designer
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