"Siberia was the blankness in between, the space through which apocalypse flew."

I finally got around to reading Ian Frazier's two-part piece in the August 3rd/10th issues of the New Yorker, documenting his trip across the Grand Russian Frontier. And it's fucking awesome. Also awesome are his sketches from the trip, which have inspired me to sketch more and write less in my own notebook this fall.