When a friend asked me why I was drawing Playboy centerfolds, I told her that I wanted to do something that had meant a lot to me when I was a kid. It’s almost impossible to convey to the horny adolescents of today who can, with the touch of a button, access reams and reams of the most extreme and outrageous porn imaginable (or so I’m told), how hard it was, back in the day, to come by even these quaint images of naked women. Someone would turn up a copy of Playboy out in the woods, stained, most likely, with mud and wet leaves, and it was like they had found buried treasure. They had found buried treasure! The feeling of excitement, the stirrings of lust, at such a find is something that the spoiled hot-shots of the 21st Century will never know. And for those enlightened ones who feel that this kind of imagery is just one more part of the problem, I say nonsense—I have approached these models with utter respect and admiration, and in doing so, have given back to them their individuality, their holiness, their cosmic power!