The Artificial Hearts

Born of thieves and vagrants, I was left on the doorstep of an eccentric old woman who, after much deliberating, took me in. I was only ever allowed to refer to her as Mama Commerce. She lived to write absurd fictional tales, paint strangely arresting pictures, compose bittersweet love songs and dig for hidden truths in her back yard. She raised me to do the same but never with any formal training. Mama Commerce simply instilled in me an insatiable desire for living to create and creating to live. God rest her soul. For more on me, go to arthurvcommerce.com. The site is always a work in progress as is life.



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